Reset
by StormMelody
Summary: "We use my ability to time travel, but this time...I take you with me." It sounded so simple. He knew it was anything but. It was the only way, though. To fix the timeline and avoid the apocalypse, he first needed to reset the past and fix their broken family. The young heroes work to prepare and train Vanya, as Five continues to wrestle his own hidden demons. [Five x Vanya]
1. Homecoming

**Chapter 1 - Return to 2002**

* * *

"At least we're together at the end. As a family." Luther stared up mournfully through the busted glass in the ceiling, watching with the rest of the team as the horrific scene unfolded.

"This doesn't have to be the end," Five blurted out, desperate enough to try anything. There was no time to do the math, and to check it over countless times as per his usual rigorous methods. He didn't have time to do the calculations on this. They were out of time for anything else. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

"What? What are you saying, Five?" Diego demanded, hope and doubt both apparent on his rough face.

"I think I have a way out of here," the words tumbled out of Five's mouth. "But you gotta trust me on this." A chorus of protests and 'no's followed. He growled under his breath at his brother's idiotic antics in a time like this. He had no patience left for this shit. "Well then we might as well accept our fate, because in less than a minute we're going to be vaporized," Five snapped harshly. The three men exchanged glances, then looked to Five expectantly.

"What's your idea then?"

Finally. "We use my ability to time travel, but this time...I take you with me." It sounded so simple, but he knew it was anything but. He'd never even teleported with Delores, let alone another living being.

"You can do that?" Diego continued, pressing Five for information the boy simply didn't have. No time to beat around the bush. Five shrugged and replied honestly, "I don't know. I've never tried it before."

"What's the worst that can happen?" They replied, defeated. Five gestured to himself with a sarcastic laugh. "You're looking at it. A fifty-eight-year-old man inside a child's body. So there's that." He didn't know enough about his new ability to time travel yet to predict how anything would turn out, or if it would work at all. It was a huge risk, truth be told.

"Oh, what the hell? I'm in." Diego gave in.

Klaus spoke up, anxious to try anything as well. "Yeah, whatever. I'm in."

"Me too," Luther said next. He glanced down to their sister, who still held Vanya on the stage floor, silent from the injuries Vanya had given her. "Allison?" She nodded her confirmation frantically, tears in her eyes. He turned back to Klaus, not forgetting about the 7th member of their party. "What about Ben?" Five could only hope that Ben's consciousness would go along with them. If this worked, they could save his life, too. Klaus turned to an invisible presence, waiting for an answer. "Great. Yeah he's in."

Five wasted no time. They needed to hurry. "Ok great, Luther, grab Vanya." The genetically altered brute of a man hesitated, looking conflicted. "Wait, should we be taking her? I mean she's the cause of the apocalypse. Isn't that like taking the bomb with us?"

"The apocalypse will always happen, and Vanya will always be the cause of it...unless we take her with us and fix her." No one argued, uncertainty clear on their faces, but it was obvious to everyone that no one understood the space-time continuum as thoroughly as Five did. It would have to be a concern for another day. He ushered them over frantically. They were wasting precious seconds. There was no more time to discuss. This was the only potential way out, their only hope. The world was ending.

Five held out his hands, gesturing for everyone to do the same, and they formed a circle, linked together. Wind ripped past them, swirling dust and debris, disheveling their hair and garments. Countless pieces of sheet music swirled around them in blurs of white, adding more noise to the deafening scene they found themselves in the center of. The seven siblings were gathered wearily on the wrecked stage of the Icarus theatre, hands linked, anxiously glancing between Five and the night sky, where their doomed fate rushed closer and closer in the form of giant chunks of the moon that once hung so beautifully above. In just minutes, everything they knew would be turned to rubble and ash.

Five noticed none of it, focusing more intensely than he ever had, knowing that all seven of their lives literally depended on his ability to repeat opening up a time portal. His teeth ground together and eyes squinted shut in pain as he felt the familiar power creeping up inside of him, but louder, more powerful than ever before, making his stomach turn and his head pound incredulously. He hardly remembered who's hands he held on each side, but they surely were regretting their placement in the circle as he dug his fingers into each of his sibling's palms. Never before had he teleported another living being - let alone five adults and a ghost. A familiar blue energy emitted from his palms at last, sparking like electricity, spreading to blanket above the entire group. He could feel it spreading, sucking more and more energy from his body, until it stabilized behind the now flimsy barrier in his consciousness, ready to burst. The amount of pressure coursing through his body was overwhelming.

"It's working!" he heard Luther confirm over the chaos.

The boy forced himself to look up with a grimace, confirming they were all there before he let loose of his power and attempted to jump them to safety. God knows if it were going to work at all, but it was better than everyone dying here again without a chance. Allison stood on his right, then Luther with Vanya held limply in his arms. Her skin was pale white, with dark shadows beneath her her eyes, everything about her transformed by the powers their father had hidden all these years. Gone was the sweet Vanya he once knew as a child. He wished things had been different for her. Diego was on his left, followed by Klaus, with the strange apparition of Ben clinging behind him, tragically and ironically reunited with his siblings at last during the final moments of humanity itself.

They were all here. Together in some twisted sense of humor designed by fate itself. It was time.

"Hold on, it's gonna get messy!" Five shouted over the crackling of the portal. He released the built up energy with a pained scream, watching with amazement as a portal opened up above their heads, surprising himself once again with this newfound ability. Tendrils of energy whipped around as the portal grew. He glanced back to his family, temporary relief washing over him, only to find much younger versions of his siblings standing where adults had once been. The six of them glanced around nervously, eyes wide in disbelief. Five's head spun, dizzy with such a great expense of his energy. He wasn't sure if he was seeing things accurately or not anymore.

With a loud crack, the portal closed over them, and for several moments there was a vast nothingness surrounding each of them. The familiar pulling and tugging he associated with his gift consumed him and the others as they were transported to somewhere - and some time. With another loud crack, the portal reappeared, and the seven of them were placed into existence again from thin air. They dropped to their feet ungracefully, stumbling, still in shock, and still a younger version of themselves. Their oversized clothes hung loosely over their now much smaller bodies, most of them still wearing bowling shoes from the _.

A young Vanya still lay peacefully asleep in her brother's arms, her skin a normal shade instead of the washed out white it had been. Luther himself was proportionate, no longer warped from an experiment gone wrong. Allison reached up to her throat, realizing the sewn up gash on her neck had vanished, leaving perfectly flawless skin behind. Diego, too, had lost his defining facial scarring, and Klaus appeared healthy again instead of the lanky, hollowed out drug addict he had become. Perhaps most amazing, Ben stood in their circle now; real, tangible, and very much alive. Five looked around slowly, wobbling unsteadily, trying to figure out where - and more importantly, when - he had taken them. They were home, he realized with at a glance. This was the academy, still in one piece. That was a good sign.

"Holy shit, it worked," Klaus was the first to speak. "Five, you beautiful son of a bitch, you did it."

Five blankly stared as his brother, unable to process Klaus's words. Sounds were slow, dull, echoing in his ears. His head buzzed dully. If he didn't know any better, he'd have thought he was completely wasted. Delores would have been pissed if that were the case. He was vaguely aware of his siblings staring at him, asking him something, saying his name, when the edges of his vision went dark. Vertigo took over, and he felt himself falling backwards, limp and unable to stop. The back of his skull thumped hard against the floor, and everything went black.

* * *

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beep._

The high pitched tone repeated itself again and again, piercing against Five's eardrums, a sharp jab digging into his already pounding head like a knife. His face scrunched up in annoyance. Cracking open an eye, he stirred himself awake, determined to utterly destroy whatever was making that insufferable noise. Turning his head to the left, he found the source. A monitor, reading his vitals apparently. A quick glance around made it obvious where he had found himself. He was in a hospital bed, in the medical wing of the academy. The young man groaned as he tried to push himself into a sitting position - a huge mistake - and fell backwards again into the pillow. His head throbbed, forcing him to sit still for a moment longer. Reaching his arm back, his fingers felt through his hair for the source of the throbbing. A fine line of stitches, sticky with blood. Great. A concussion was the last thing he needed to be dealing with right now.

Gritting through the pain, he forced himself back up, ripping out the wires that attached him to the machine once he was in a reliably stable position. Next was the IV in his left wrist, carefully placed far enough away as to not disfigure the Umbrella tattooed there. A wave of nausea overcame him suddenly. He leaned over the bed railing to vomit. Breathing heavily, he spit the foul taste out, wiping his mouth on the white hospital gown he had found himself in. A string of curses were uttered under his breath at his current limitations. He didn't have time for this right now. Something as pathetic as a bump on the head would not hold him back. Not today. Not after everything he worked for this week, spending years of his life to get to this moment.

Quite suddenly, the door swung open. Five's eyes shot up to regretfully meet those of Reginald Hargreeves. The boy inhaled sharply, finding himself stupidly surprised and at a loss for words. Grace trailed behind Five's adoptive father figure, a happy smile permanently plastered onto her face. She smiled wider as she noticed Five's conscious state, her pseudo-happiness apparent by her programmed expression. Sir Reginald had no such smile. The seemingly emotionless man stopped at the foot of Five's bed, locking eyes with his adoptive son coldly, as per usual. Five's mouth hung open, unsure of exactly what was going on. He had no idea when his portal had taken them to, or how much their father was filled in on the subject, if at all. Where were the others? How was Vanya? A dozen questions raced through his mind, but nothing came out.

"Number Five," his father greeted him abruptly, all business. "I take it your insistent antics to practice time travelling will finally cease now that you've nearly killed yourself with attempts to disobey? At the state you showed up in two nights ago, it seems that you're lucky you made it back at all. Fortunate that the rest of the academy found you when they did." The proud man huffed, clearly unhappy about Five being even partially right in regards to time travelling being feasible and within the boys grasp. Five struggled to keep up with the timeline he found himself stuck in, thinking back to many, many moons ago. He had taken them back to 2002. His heart was heavy with the realization that his past self must have stormed out of the academy just days ago, insistent on jumping forward to a desolate and hopeless future. If only he could have stopped himself from that mistake...but then everything would be different. He couldn't dwell on his own demons right now. Focus on the big picture.

"Two nights ago?" Five questioned at last, eyes narrowing. "I've been unconscious for two days?"

"Quite," the old man confirmed, continuing on to lecture Five mercilessly, not seeming to be very concerned about his son's poor health at the moment. "I don't know how much more clear I could have made it to you. You are not, nor may you ever be, ready to take on the task of time travelling. I assure you there will be consequences for your behavior," he demanded angrily. Five nodded wearily, feeling out of place being lectured by his once deceased father. He hadn't talked to the man in decades. It was surreal, and Five needed to figure out what else was going on before he made any rash decisions or statements that could alter the timeline in a negative way.

Reginald stormed out of the room with a turn of his heel, leaving Grace to dutifully tend to Five. "You really shouldn't be sitting up just yet, dear." She leaned him backwards with a slight amount of force, washing his brow with a cool rag. Five rolled his eyes, sighing and pushing her away after a moment. "Are you hungry, honey? I'll make you something to-"

"No, no, no," he interrupted, pushing himself back up with a grunt. "I need to see the others. Now. Where's Vanya?" His body betrayed him with a loud grumble from his stomach. He hadn't eaten in days, apparently, but he had much bigger concerns on his plate.

"Well she's working on her studies, of course." Grace smiled knowingly, gesturing at the clock on the wall. "Your brothers and sisters are all busy with their work and trainings until four, remember? Their schedule doesn't stop just because you're feeling under the weather. Here take these." She sat down on the edge of his bed, holding a paper cup to his mouth suddenly and dumping the contents in before he could protest. Two pills.

"Now drink." A glass of water was thrust in his hands. Five glared suspiciously at her, frowning at the lack of control he had over his situation. His father may be pissed, and horrible, but he wouldn't poison one of his little experiments. Grace watched until he emptied the glass and handed it back. The robotic woman stood up, turning to the door. "I'll get you some soup, dear. You'll feel better with something in your stomach."

"Grace- I mean Mom, wait, I need-" but she was gone. The boy ran his fingers through his dark hair with a deep sigh, anxiety creeping up on him. There was too much at stake. He needed to know what was going on, now.

Searching for any scrap of energy he could find, he closed his fists and attempted to gather up enough strength to jump to Vanya's room. No luck. He continued, not one to give up, concentrating hard. But nothing happened. His body must still be too weak to teleport. He growled, throwing the blanket off his legs ungracefully, creating a tangled mess of limbs and linen sheets. Struggling, he managed to swing his feet of the edge of the bed, touching the cold tiled floor with his bare feet.

'Right. Hospital gown,' he thought to himself, sighing for the umpteenth time since he awoke. He'd killed for a pair of pants right now. Hell, he'd killed for less. Thrusting himself up with a heave, he cried out suddenly, grasping through his gown at his lower abdomen where a small blood stain was forming. It was the shrapnel wound from before, in the future. He must have ripped the stitches a little. Nothing too concerning at the moment.

Five stood unsteadily, clinging to the wall for support. Determined to find any one of his siblings, he made his way through the large empty room, laboring against the wall weakly, finally reaching the door. Putting a hand on the knob, he was thrown of balance as it suddenly swung outward. He fell forward with it, colliding with another body, tumbling to the ground in a mess of body parts. A crash of broken china rang through the room as a plate smashed into pieces against the tiled floor.

"Five! I'm so sorry. Are you ok?" A young Vanya leaned over him, gingerly pulling him up to a sitting position on the floor. Five cradled the side of his head again, ears ringing. Damn this sensitive state he found himself in. Powering through it for the greater good, he grabbed Vanya tightly by her shoulders, looking her over with a scrutinizing eye as they sat across from each other. She seemed alright. Her eyes were dark instead of the unnatural blue he had witnessed in her chaotic state from the future.

"Vanya," he muttered, putting aside the peculiarities of her age regression. Nothing was weird when you were a member of this family. "What happened after we arrived? We weren't sure what to expect after what happened at the Icarus. Are you hurt?" She leaned back, far away from her brother, shocked at his outburst. Grabbing his hands, she pulled them from her shoulders, squeezing his hands tightly. Her expression seemed...confused. Five cocked his head at her, waiting for an answer, anything at all to fill him in on what he had missed. Her eyes glanced down at his gown, where the growing red stain was glaringly obvious against the pressed white cotton.

"Your stitches! You shouldn't be up right-" the young girl started, brown eyes filled with worry.

"Fuck the stitches," he cursed loudly, pressing on. "I'm fine. But what-"

"Shh," she ushered him, eyes wide at his outburst. A small hand pressed against his lips to quiet him. "The Icarus? What are you going on about? What on earth has gotten into you, Five? I'm fine. You're the one that should be resting. I was just trying to bring you this," Vanya hissed, gesturing to the broken glass scattered around them. A peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich sat amongst the mess, covered in shards and no longer fit for consumption. He almost smiled at the sentiment. It was his favorite. She had remembered, all these years later.

"I overheard Mom telling Dad that you had woken up and I-" she paused, looking down self consciously. "I just wanted to make sure you were ok. Dad was so mad when you stormed out at breakfast. And I - I was scared you weren't going to come back at all." Her eyes met his again, full of angry tears. They fell down her cheeks as she blinked, staring at him with big eyes. Five's brows furrowed, his brain working as fast as it could in its current state. Breakfast? Oh. Breakfast. The breakfast he stormed out of when he time traveled. That was so long ago for him. Forty years, give or take. Did she remember nothing of the last week, nothing of the future? His blue eyes searched her face for answers, but none appeared.

Panic started to fill his chest as he came to the realisation of what was going on. She didn't remember anything. Their Dad's funeral, him returning to 2019, Peabody, the concert. It was 2002, and Vanya was just a thirteen year old ordinary girl again. His breathing became erratic as his mind raced. What about the others? Oh God, what if he was the only one that remembered? Did he bring his entire family back to 2002 and erase their memories of the future and the apocalypse in the process? How would he convince a group of hormonal teenagers to get their shit together long enough to help him stop the end of the world? Five squeezed his eyes tight, trying to calm down as he felt an all too familiar terror crawl across his skin.

* * *

Ash rained down. He could smell it in the air.

Everything was burning.

Everyone was gone.

He found himself alone.

He forced his eyes back open and shrieked, clawing backwards away from a vision of his siblings, dead in front of him in an apocalyptic world. "It's not real. It's not real. There's time. I can stop it," he muttered, over and over, cradling his pounding head. A voice cut through his own delirious chanting, but he ignored it.

"Five!" it screamed again, shaking his shoulders roughly this time.

His eyes snapped back open to reality. He reached around desperately for a moment, realizing with a tightening in his chest that Dolores wasn't with him in this present. God, he wished she was. Instead, the young faces of his siblings stood over him, excluding Vanya. Relief washed over him, if even for a moment. They were still alive. Everyone was ok. "Where's Vanya?" he demanded, noticing her absence right away.

"Just breathe, Five. You're fine. It's late, Vanya went to bed already. We all wanted to check on you again." A teenage Ben put a reassuring hand on his brother's shoulder, squeezing gently. Young Allison smiled gently from the end of the bed, no signs of having her throat slashed open. "We are all fine," she assured him. "We all made it back in one piece."

A chuckled snort came from Klaus. "Well, everyone but you, anyways. What the hell, man? You've been out for days, and you still look like shit, like all your stuff from the future carried over."

If looks could kill, Klaus would be dead. Five smiled sarcastically. "Thanks Klaus, I appreciate the input." It was a valid point though - why was he stuck with all of his previous injuries, while everyone else seemed perfectly fine? No bumps, bruises, or scrapes on them. He considered the possibilities. "That could be due to the fact that you all had bodies here in the past, ready to drop a consiousness into. It would explain how Ben is here. My past body is...well, in the future we just left, right now," he added thoughtfully, almost sadly. Their faces fell with him as they realized what that meant. Decades of being alone in a wasteland, leaving a shell of a man behind. Klaus broke the silence with an attempt at humor again.

"I guess you should also know that Dad has officially added no time travelling during meal times to the house rulebook. We'll never know what Herr Carl said in those moments."

Five glared at him, unamused. "You all...you remember, right? Vanya, she-"

"Shot a hole through the moon?" Luther cut in.

"Followed by destroying the entire planet, and everyone on it?" Diego added. "Yeah. We remember." The group exchanged glances wearily. "But Vanya doesn't."

Five sat up slowly, getting five concerned looks and urges to take it easy. His brain was starting to feel almost normal, less fuzzy. Almost. "It could be as simple as her not being conscious when I jumped us into the past," he muttered, calculating in his head. He wished he had a pen. "Or it could be that she's simply emotionally suppressing it. Her mind was incredibly damaged from her powers going berserk. It's not uncommon, even for an average joe without powers. I assume Dad is making her take her pills again, here?" Allison nodded quickly, confirming his thoughts. "Her pills are a sedative I suspect, slowing down her mind, and most importantly to Daddy-dearest, her powers. We're going to have to jump start her memory a bit to see if she remembers anything from the future," he concluded, then added, "It won't be pretty either way."

"Woah, that's obviously a bad idea," Luther started. "Last time she used her powers, even a little, she-"

"Last time she was shut out by her entire family, manipulated by a psychopath, and improperly educated about her own powers." Five glared at his brother. "This time is different. This time we fix her. We train her. There's nothing else that matters more than Vanya keeping her emotions in check." He trailed off, feeling a little sappy with his next words. "She needs us, and she needs our support. There's no way in hell Reggie's going to change from the last time he raised us, so it's going to be up to us to monitor her progression."

The group stood silently around Five's hospital bed, unspoken words of their broken past hanging in the air. None of them had received proper parental love or support growing up, but at least they had each other, for however brief a time. Vanya though...Vanya had no one. Reginald made sure she was secluded and alone.

Diego cleared his throat awkwardly, interrupting the silence with a hushed tone. "So since our dear dad was the one who fucked up this entire family so much to begin with, and hear me out please," he assured, pointing a finger at Luther specifically, "Wouldn't it make sense to...remove him from the situation?" Luther glared at him like he'd grown an extra head.

"You want to kill Dad? What the hell Diego?!" the blond shouted, fists balled up, defensive and ready for a fight. "We can't just walk around killing people for a solution! We're supposed to be saving lives."

"If we're going to kill anyone it should be Peabody," Allison chirped in, contemt for the man who hurt their sister clear on her face. "He's the one that manipulated Vanya's powers to begin with. He dies in the future regardless."

Diego shook his head and threw his hands up in argument. "Dad is the root of the problem, how do you not understand-" Luther laughed, taking over in the middle of his sentence. "Maybe the root of the problem is that we never acted like a team Diego. You all abandoned ship. If you would just work with us-" Diego scoffed at Luther's attempt to turn the conversation around. "Oh you want to talk about the root of the problem, Number One? Let's talk about how you locked our sister up like a criminal instead of dealing with her." The two were at each other's throats, Diego reaching for a hidden blade, Luther taking off his uniform jacket in preparation for a scuffle.

"Shut up," Five shouted horsley, voice cracking. Damn this body. "Everybody just shut up. You pea-brained morons. No one is killing anyone. Do you idiots not understand that doing so would alert the commission to what we've done, and where we are? God knows they may already know as it is. We have no idea how long we're going to be safe here. Granted, they should be distracted for some time seeing as I blew up an entire department, but we can't take unnecessary risks with sudden timeline altercations." No one spoke as he snapped at them. They hadn't considered the possibilities of The Commission catching up with them _again. _"For once, Luther is right. It's time to work together. If we fail again, then that's it. This is the only thing that stands a chance at changing the timeline in our favor. Now everybody shut their goddamn mouths and start acting like a happy family for _one_ fucking day," he spat out irritably.

"And for Christ's sake, can someone _please_ find me a cup of coffee?"

* * *

**I've been dying these last few weeks, itching for more Umbrella Academy, so I figured...hey why not! This story will be focusing on Five (because I'm a tad bit obsessed with his character and abilities) and what happens to the group when they jump through time together. There's a very big chance at a Vanya romance. I'll explore that as I go into this next chapter. This is entirely based on the Netflix series with no inkling of how the comics go, but that could change as we go. We'll see. I'm sure I've left mistakes scattered about - I wrote this in a couple of hours with a toddler clinging to me, so I apologize. I hope you enjoyed my little distraction project. **

**Review and follow please - I'll be posting again soon!**

**Storm**


	2. Teenagers

**Chapter 2 - Teenagers**

* * *

It had been three days since Five woke up in the hospital wing.

Vanya had not been back to visit.

None of the others had been back to visit, as a matter of fact.

Grace came like clockwork three times a day with meals, medication, and to check on his healing injuries. She had no information to give him, or was unwilling to do so per Reginald's orders. Pogo had visited twice now, insisting that Five let them run further tests, taking half a dozen blood samples that left him nauseous again.

He had already continuously avoided interrogations about the healing shrapnel injury in his abdomen with excuses of not remembering what had happened when he jumped ahead in time. Five didn't want to raise any more suspicions with any of their caretakers about his true age, or where he had been when he jumped into the future. He refused any of the psychological screenings Pogo had offered, not having his story straight with his siblings just yet.

That was likely why he was still here, he suspected, with no visitors in days. It was a punishment, one of the consequences his father dished out to gain obedience with his seven adoptive children. Manipulative prick. Reginald may have the _world's_ best interest at heart, but never his children's best interest. He sure wasn't stuck in here for his injuries at this point. The boy's wounds were healing nicely, a welcomed perk of this thirteen-year-old body. Not that he was about to be running a marathon or jumping back into the fight tomorrow or anything, but his wounds were not substantial enough to still be under such intense supervision and lockdown.

The desire to get out of this godforsaken room was killing him. He still hadn't been able to make any spatial jumps. It had been _three fucking days _and his powers were still mysteriously on the fritz. He still felt foggy, and weak. He wasn't used to being so limited - his power had always allowed him an enormous amount of freedom that the others must have never experienced as children. It was something he hadn't realized, something he must have taken for granted, truth be told. Maybe that's why he was so defiant as a child. He couldn't settle for just a taste - he needed to have the whole damn cake. The other members of the team often talked about their lives like the ending of a bad movie, and their powers like a curse. Five felt completely lost without them.

The raven haired teen removed himself from the bed once again, glaring at the locked door as he paced. It was inconceivable to think that the only things keeping him locked up like a crazed animal in a cage was a metal door. He was Number Five. He was the brightest of the group, and legendary among The Commision. He had survived the God damned apocalypse, _found a way around _the space-time continuum, and jumped seven people back nearly twenty years... but couldn't find anything to help him make his way through a simple locked door?! He flung the thin pillow across the room in a fit of anger. It made a ridiculously unsatisfying thud as it hit the wall.

There was no television - not that he could ever be bothered to waste his valuable time and brain cells watching any mind numbing programs that may be on. Any news would be useless - he was much more knowledgeable of the events of the last several hundred years that those reporting the information. There were no books in the room. Even if there were, he'd read nearly every book this house had to offer years ago. What he really wanted was a pen, a pencil, a marker, literally anything to write with. He wanted to rewrite his theories, recalculate equations pertaining to the apocalypse outcome, look at everything from every possible angle. He needed to check for mistakes and loopholes. He needed to be ready for The Commission's next possible move.

Five groaned, ceasing his relentless pacing. He leaned against the cool wall and slid down, his back squeaking unpleasantly against the tiled wall. He wasn't one to crave attention and idle conversation with others but...he hated being alone like this, especially after spending _so long _alone in the future wasteland. It was wearing him down, ever so slowly, making it harder and harder to distinguish between reality and glimpses of his post-apocalyptic times. Dolores was always his companion, his anchor, the calm eye in the storm of his life, keeping him tethered to reality in some backwards, twisted way. She was gone, though, likely not having been manufactured yet at all. If he couldn't have her companionship, he needed to keep his shit together and concentrate, to keep his mind in the present. Regardless of how obnoxious and sometimes painfully dull it was to surround himself with his technically younger siblings again, it was at least a distraction from the chaos that engulfed him at times. A much needed crutch. A purpose. Not quite a replacement for Dolores, but it was a start. It was the most logical thing right now, to focus on making sure their dysfunctional family pulled it together for the sake of the world as they knew it.

His head turned sharply to the heavy door as its bolt slid open with a metallic _click_. Mom walked in, tray in hand, delivering breakfast. Right on time. Five didn't bother moving from his place against the wall, or replying to the advanced android's greetings. She leaned down, a little paper cup with two pills in one hand, a glass of water in the other. He took the two objects with a mild look of disgust.

"You know," he spoke finally, a forced smile plastered on his face he stared at the pills, "I don't really think I need pain medication at this point. I'm feeling just _dandy_." Grace laughed cheerily, shaking her head at him to disagree. "I'm afraid your father insists, until we know the extent any damage from your little adventure." No judgement in her voice, just overly-peppy factual statements. That was one good, if not annoying, thing about having a robotic mother to raise you. She had no real opinions, just an artificial intelligence programmed to meet their basic necessities. She guided Five's hand to his mouth, and he begrudgingly dumped the capsules in, the familiar bitter taste blanketing his taste buds. Two gulps of water later, Grace was satisfied. "Besides dear, these aren't for pain. Your father wants to make sure your abilities are stable before we release you. No spatial jumps for you right now, mister," the blond woman insisted innocently, patting his straight locks twice as she spoke.

Five choked mid swallow, coughing painfully for a moment. He held up a hand to stop Grace from hovering, insisting that he was just fine. She left soon after, leaving the tray of food on the end of the now neatly made bed. Five clenched his jaw tightly, icy blue eyes filled with fury, holding in his words until the door shut, locked, and Grace's footsteps disappeared down the hall.

"Shit," he cursed, jumping up faster than he should have. His stitched side burned from twisting so abruptly. He tore across the room to the attached bathroom, forcefully dropping to his knees in front of the toilet. Of course it wasn't his injuries preventing him from using his powers, it was the damn pills. Why had he just assumed they were for his own good? Leave it to Hargreeves to try to medicate Five like he had Vanya, like some form of punishment for his defiance, for using his powers for anything but what he was told. Shoving his fingers down his throat, he gagged himself into vomiting the medication back up, making sure the pills made it out of his system. Shaking, he hunched over the porcelain bowl and gathered himself together, grinding his teeth in anger. He would not be complacent, and play the part of a perfect little child for his father. No, he would bide his time until the effects of this shit wore off, and get the hell out of this room.

* * *

The next evening, Hargreeves and six of the seven of his adoptive children sat at the long dining table, dinner before them. Five's chair sat empty between Vanya and Diego, a sore spot for the present siblings. They exchanged concerned glances, knowing better than to speak during meal times. That rule was burned into their brains, despite the many years it had been since they all sat here together. The children picked at their food, listening to Reginald's current choice of a record of a dull man's voice drag on and on about survival in tropical climates.

Five, still in his gown, popped inconspicuously into the grand room that was their father's parlor. He made his way to hide behind the grand archways that lead the way into the next room over, the dining room. Ever so cautiously, he peered around an ornate wooden frame, being sure to position himself out of his father's range of sight. They were all still at dinner. Good. Grace had delivered Five's dinner to him half an hour ago in his now-abandoned medical room. He had successfully managed to avoid swallowing his pills yesterday and today, apparently having enough good faith with his robotic mother to not raise any suspicion. It hadn't taken long to start feeling like himself again. Now to take advantage of his regained abilities and clear head.

He hadn't realized quite how clouded his thoughts had been the last few days - it made him pity Vanya's upbringing with a renowned understanding. The medication was not only designed to suppress her abilities, it also seemed to suppress emotions. She was never allowed to become her own person as she aged...just a numb, ghost of a woman, incapable of connecting with those around her. Always an outsider. Five lingered where he stood, an intense gaze fixed on Vanya as she carried on with her dinner, blissfully unaware of all the trouble they had gone through for her just this week, and of the future destruction she would cause. If all went as planned, they wouldn't be a concern soon.

The boy jumped upstairs to his old room to wait for his adoptive siblings to finish with their meal. The small room was exactly how he had left it in the original 2002. Tidy, neutral, pristine, in every manner but one - numbers, equations, and ramblings from Five's younger self were scribbled from floor to ceiling, covering every square inch of the walls. Five spun a slow circle, eyes glancing over some of his early life's work from when he was _actually _thirteen and newly excited about calculating the quantum physics involved for the accuracy and speed of his spatial jumps, and the possibilities of time travelling. He was so far beyond the simple equations his teenage self struggled through for months, even years on end.

With a nostalgic sigh, he strode to his wardrobe, swinging the dark wooden doors open to unsurprisingly reveal a dozen identical outfits. He hadn't seemed to care much while medicated, but with the affects worn off, he was all too aware of his lack of clothing in lue of the standard patient gown he wore. Happily ridding himself of the gown, he threw on a pair of the ridiculous uniform shorts his father supplied them. He shoved his arms through the sleeves of the white button-up shirt and fumbled quickly with the buttons on front.

"Five?"

The boy in question nearly jumped out of his skin, looking up with wide eyes, hands frozen in the middle maneuvering a button through the hole it paired with. There in his doorway stood Vanya. Of course it was Vanya. He should have known it was one of his siblings. The adults that ran this joint rarely bothered to check in with the children individually. A moment later, five additional bodies pushed past her into the tiny room, overhearing his name. They swarmed into his small childhood room, half a dozen questions being thrown at him all at once, Allison's arms thrown around him lovingly. He stepped away from the bombardment quickly, never being one to appreciate unnecessary physical contact, teleporting out of his sister's grasp. With a _snap, _he re-materialized behind the group near the doorway where Vanya still waited.

"That won't be necessary," he assured them, taking time to finish buttoning the upper half of his shirt. "I'm fine. No thanks to Dad. It wouldn't have taken quite so long to meet back up if he hadn't been forcing Vanya's medicine down my throat while keeping my under lock and key."

"Wait, what?" Vanya cut in, her voice full of question, surprised. Five ignored her for the time being. All in due time. There were more pressing pieces of information he needed to obtain first. The six of them were suppose to have already concocted a plan to deal with Number Seven, and whether or not the adult Vanya had been returned to the past with them or not. He continued addressing the core team, "Catch me up to speed, please. Is anyone onto us yet?"

Luther shook his head with confidence. "No, everything is oddly...normal. For this timeline, I guess. Studies together in the morning. Umbrella Academy training in the afternoon. Just like when we were kids. Dad has seemed a little preoccupied, I assume dealing with you."

"Hardly. And The Commission? No indications that we've been followed?" Five demanded, neatly tucking in his shirt. Whether or not Temps would be on their tail was obviously the biggest immediate threat. He pulled a plaid vest on over his head in one fluid motion, then started on his socks.

"None," Diego confirmed, shrugging. "That we know of." Five nodded, pleased with the answer. If they had followed the group to this timeline, chances are they would have acted by now. Field agents were never happy to drag out an assignment for longer than a day or two. The shitty hotels and ruthless expectations were not exactly something employees enjoyed for days on end.

"Who is The Commission? Guys, what is happening?" Vanya stepped into the room at last, clearly irritated by the usual lack of inclusion. The rest of the group went silent, eyeing each other wearily, before looking to Five to take the lead on this one. "We haven't known exactly what to do about Vanya, yet," Allison informed him in hushed tones. "What's the plan, Five?"

Five crossed his arms with a sigh, turning away from the young violinist, closing his eyes and collecting his thoughts. If he hadn't spent the last four days unknowingly popping depressants, he could have planned this out this properly. "Alright, kiddies," he chimed finally, spinning around with a thin smile and clapping his hands together in fake enthusiasm. "First things first. It's time for a long overdue family meeting, including you, Vanya. But first…" He trailed off, taking a step away and disappearing momentarily. Seconds later, he was back, a bottle of scotch held in each hand. "I believe this will help get us started."

* * *

Less than an hour later, one of the bottles sat empty, discarded under Five's childhood desk. The other bottle was being passed around from kid to kid, smiles on most everyone's faces for once. They were alive, and together, and that was worth having a short celebration. It hadn't taken much to convince Vanya to sit and converse with them - this young, naive version of Vanya was desperately eager to be included with the group. She had jumped at the chance to spend time with them outside of their morning school work. That didn't stop her from frowning in disapproval as Five, sitting criss-crossed next to her in the circle, offered the bottle to her. Her nose crinkled up in distaste. "Dad would kill us if he knew we were drinking," the dark haired girl muttered, not for the first time. She brushed her bangs to the side, tucking a few long locks behind her ear. "This isn't even legal."

Five scoffed, amused at her ignorance of the situation. "We'll get to that," he assured, leaning ungracefully across her to pass the bottle on to Allison. Vanya said nothing, but glared at him impatiently. Five sat upright and cleared his throat, realizing he maybe should have started the conversation halfway through the _first _bottle of liquor. "Anyways. On to business." The rest of the team quieted down, all ears. He turned to Vanya again. "This going to sound impossible and completely insane, I'm sure, but please just listen."

He turned back to the group. "This week...hell, the last several years, have been difficult for us all. We've all made sacrifices," his eyes shifted between Ben and Luther, "And most of us have lost someone we loved during this hellish mess." Allison's eyes dropped as Luther quickly linked their fingers together in support. Diego crossed his arms, stewing inside himself. Klaus had pulled his knees to his chest, hands wrapped around the dog tags he still wore around his neck. Five took a moment, allowing himself a rare moment of feeling his deeply buried emotions. "Even me." _Dolores_. Deep breaths. This wasn't the time to mourn. "But we've gained the chance to do so much more. Ben is alive. Vanya is herself again," he added, not wanting to bring the group down further. "And while some of us have to accept a loss for what it is," he added quietly, knowing there was no way for Klaus to bring back Dave, and that Allison reuniting with her now nonexistent child would be damn near impossible, "Those we lost in the future are depending on us to change their fates."

Vanya, silent up until this point, shook her head in disbelief. "Wait, you're not saying that you all-"

"Travelled here from the future?" Five interjected without missing a beat. "It's not quite that simple and straight cut, but yes. We are _all _freshly returned from the astronomically fucked up year of 2019. The year the world ends, unless we do something about it." He paused letting her take in his words for a moment. "Including you, by the way, or so I suspect. We brought you with us from the future."

Her brown eyes darted from face to face, clearly not able to wrap her brain around the idea. "But you were only gone for a couple of days, when your tried your time jumping," she argued, turning back to Five. "How?" The scotch had made its way back to Five. He gratefully took a swig, wiped his mouth with his jacket sleeve, and offered the booze again to Vanya. She blinked once, started to accept the bottle, then pushed it back to Five. "No, I need my anxiety medicine, not a drink. If this is a joke, its not funny," she dug desperately through her jacket pocket for the pill bottle, pulling out the little orange container and twisting the lid with shaking hands.

Five clasped a hand over hers, stopping her from twisting opening the bottle. "I would highly suggest putting a stop to those, if you want to be a part of this, Vanya. We are talking about the end of the Goddamn world. Whether you remember or not. If you don't agree to help us, then this has all been pointless."

Her breathing had becoming shaky at this point. "Why me?" she muttered between unsteady breaths. "What am I supposed to do? There's _nothing_ I cando. I'm just ordinary." The painful words spilled out along with her tears. Five, along with the others, he suspected, felt a deep seeded twinge of regret. How many times had they said the same phrase directly to her, nonchalantly, as unremarkable as stating that the sky was blue. How long had their father spent convincing her just how insignificant she must be? Tonight was the first step to a long road of recovery for Vanya.

Swallowing his pride for once, Five shook his head at her, denying the statement. "Actually, you're not. We were all wrong, Vanya." The boy paused, struggling to meet her eyes that clung to every word that left his mouth. "You were never ordinary, Vanya. Dad lied," he stated, a hint of anger behind his voice at how much their father had screwed them up in the past. "We were all just too busy acting like self absorbed assholes to notice. We've travelled back to fix it. To make sure you learn to control it. And to make sure you're a part of this team, and of this family." There it was. Ungracefully said, and possibly leaving out the major twist of _her_ being the actual cause of the destruction of all life on Earth, but all in good time. The room was silent, everyone anxiously awaiting any sign of a bad reaction. Her destructive, emotion-driven powers were still a fresh memory for the rest of them. Vanya sat motionless, not offering him any indication that she had heard a single word he said.

"Um. I mean did you-"

He was cut off with Vanya throwing her arms around him, pulling him forward into a forced hug, burying her face into his shoulder with a sob. Five's breath caught in his chest as he froze, suddenly not knowing what to do with his hands. He wasn't used to this family and hugging shit. It didn't take but a moment for the rest of the group to circle around them and utter words of encouragement and support, making Five feel even more claustrophobic and out of place. Taking a cue from his siblings, he hesitantly put his arms around Vanya, returning the hug, biting his tongue, and letting her have this moment. She deserved that, he supposed. "Vanya, I need to know if you remember anything at all from 2019," he pressured her through gritted teeth after several _long _minutes of feeling squeezed like an orange between six other bodies.

Vanya pulled away with a sniffle, wiping her nose on her sleeve. "I think I'm starting to. I feel something, little fragments. Like when you wake up and can't fully remember a dream," she explained regretfully. "Like dejavu. I just can't believe it. All this time, Dad knew?"

He nodded his confirmation, taking her response as a good sign. "Well that saves us some work," he stated simply, curtly. Back to the business at hand, then. "The next step is to stop taking these," he added, tapping on the orange bottle still in her hand, pills clattering inside at the motion. "That should help. But stay clear of Dad. And keep your emotions in check. Your powers will be difficult to maintain, I won't lie. But you have us to help you this time," he motioned to the huddled teenagers surrounding them. A chorus of agreements poured from the rest of the siblings.

The group continued the sentiments and discussion of everything they had been through the last several days, and in the years before, when Five was absent. The discussion seemed to help. Vanya started recalling more and more as the minutes turned to hours. Five managed to inch away slowly from the uncomfortably tight family circle, bit by bit. He eventually found himself polishing off the abandoned bottle of scotch. His speaking part was over. He had no interest in discussing the demons of his past right now. The rest of them...they all had issues, sure. But they didn't spend _forty__ long years alone _on a destroyed planet, everyone you ever cared about destroyed in a fiery explosion. It wasn't their fault, of course, it was his and his alone. He had made the decision to attempt time travelling, throwing away his chance at a normal - well, normal for the academy - life. He had corrected one mistake, and returned to this timeline, but he still felt he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Five glanced to the clock on his nightstand, anxious now to be alone and consider today's events. Or at least to be alone and sleep off the effects of this alcohol. It was after three in the morning. "For now, I suggest we all get some sleep. I still have to figure out a way to convince Dad to release me from the medical ward," he groaned with realization. The old man was furious with him. One by one, the adoptive siblings said their goodnights to each other, some emotional, some not. They each made their way to their respective rooms down the hall.

At long last, it was just Vanya standing at his doorway, her dark eyes raw and red from the night's hardships. Five gave her a drunken, half-hearted smile, shoving his hands in his pockets. He wasn't sure what else there was to be said at this point. He may be extraordinarily bright, witty, and full to the brim with confidence in himself, but he would be the first to admit that he sucked at this sentimental stuff. "I guess I should probably jump back to the - the room," he stumbled out, not remembering which room for a moment. He was definitely drunk. Dolores would be pissed to see him like this. He took a step forward, intending to zap back downstairs, only to stumble forward to the ground. "Woops," he grinned with an uncharacteristic giggle, voice cracking slightly. At least alcohol made his joke of a life feel slightly humorous.

Vanya shook her head at the state he was in, giving him a grim smile. "C'mon," she said, rolling her eyes, reaching out a hand to help him back up on his feet. "I'll walk you back instead." With one arm around her shoulders, and hers wrapped around his waist, she lead him slowly through the corridors, and miraculously down stairs. "Hey Five?"

"Mmm?" he mumbled, not sure if he was capable of speaking and walking down the staircase simultaneously right now.

"How old are you? Fifty-something? With all of the time travelling forward and back," she questioned. She was struggling, but remembering more and more, he could see it on her face. It was nearly within her grasp, just out of reach. She was picking at the walls her brain had formed, chipping away at the foggy memories and side effects of her medication. He would have to tell her the rest of the story soon, tomorrow even, before she started putting pieces together herself. That wouldn't be good news for any of them.

_Shit._

"Fifty-eight," he responded, frowning. They were at the right door now, thank Christ. He couldn't do this twenty questions things while intoxicated. Vanya put a hand on the knob, but made no further move to open it. Her muscles tensed under his arm, shaking a little. "Vanya?" he questioned, hesitantly.

"It was me, wasn't it?" she questioned further, hardly a whisper. "I caused it all." Five cursed as the walls around them started to vibrate. A hairline crack formed above them, causing paint chips and dry wall dust to coat the top of their heads like snow. What a time to be drunk. What the _hell _was he thinking, drinking nearly an entire bottle of scotch? Everything must be coming back to her. They were mere days into their task, had covered practically no ground with her, and already he was fucking it up again.

"Hey, hey," he urged her, grabbing her shoulders forcefully, twisting her around and pulling her to face him, just inches away. He struggled to stay upright, and it showed. "Look at me. Concentrate. And breathe." It grew quiet again. "No. Absolutely not. Its _my _fault for leaving. It's _all of our_ faults for excluding you the way we did. And especially Dad's fault," he added bitterly. "But it was never, and will never be your fault, Vanya. Okay?" She nodded, struggling to hold it all in. "C'mon, come sit," he urged her inside the door, struggling himself to sober up. "If not for your sake, then for mine." He sat down with relief, his body numb and tired from the liquor. Or maybe the never ending stress of skirting around an apocalypse. Who the hell knew at this point?

"Are you alright?" he asked after several minutes of quiet sitting.

"I remember it," she choked out finally, and Five frowned, glancing over towards her frail form. Fresh tears rolled like raindrops down her face. "The day of the Apocalypse. And Allison. God, I almost _killed _Allison. And all of you. And all of those people," she continued, staring up at him in a daze.

"But you didn't," he interjected. "And we won't let it happen. I'll make sure of it. I won't let it happen again, Vanya." It was the only thing he was alive for, he felt.

Not knowing what else to do, he resorted to do what someone without an emotionally damaged history of isolation would probably do in this situation - he pulled her against him in a hug, letting her cry once again into his shoulder. Even whilst drunk, dealing with emotional situations felt foreign to him. Life alone, and life as an assassin...it had hardened him. Emotions meant so little when you were trying to stop the end of the world.

He wasn't sure if it was due to his body still being weak from recovery, the abundance of scotch consumed tonight in this frail new body, or simply the unfamiliar, but comforting feeling of Vanya's delicate frame pressed warmly against him. Either way, it wasn't long before his eyes grew heavy, and they both drifted to sleep, innocently stretched across the small bed. The day's troubles were finally, if not temporarily, behind them.

* * *

**Ahh I just couldn't wait, I had to write another chapter. I'm having so much fun writing these characters. Such a fun dynamic. Definitely feeling the Vanya/Five vibe, if you hadn't already noticed, so I suppose that will progress as we go!**

**Hope you enjoyed! Reviews are much appreciated. **

**Storm**


	3. Memory Bound

**Chapter Three: Memory Bound**

* * *

_[October 1997, original timeline]_

_Today was her eighth birthday. All of their eighth birthdays, she supposed._

_Grace had made a cake to celebrate with the seven children. Sweets were a rare treat for the group, but becoming more and more common with Mom around. Vanya watched blankly as the rest of her adoptive siblings crowded around the dessert impatiently, chattering together excitedly. Celebrating. Something she simply couldn't bring herself to do. What was there to celebrate for the only ordinary child in a family full of extraordinary talents? She sat at the rustic kitchen table, disinterested in trying to fight for her place among them. It hadn't proven successful thus far, and she was growing tired of trying._

_A plate with a slice of simple yellow cake with chocolate frosting clinked as it was placed in front of her. Vanya's eyes darted up, a grateful smile to her favorite member of the academy._

"_Thanks," she smiled at Five. He grunted a simple acknowledgement, and sat across from her with his own plate, pulling out a notebook from under his arm and diving into whatever insanely challenging mathematical task he was working on solving this week. It was always something - the boy seemed to never stop in his quest for knowledge. His blue eyes lifted, the corners of his lips turning upwards every so briefly to return her smile. Anyone else may have missed the action, but not Vanya. "I needed somewhere quiet to work anyways," he insisted, blunt, broody, and stating the simple facts. His face turned back down to his notebook, leaving his slice of cake untouched._

_While that may be true, Vanya was thankful for his consistently silent companionship. She picked up her fork, her mood delightfully turned around for the time being._

* * *

_[1999, original timeline]_

_Five and Vanya sat quietly next to each other in the library, books in front of each of them. The boy leaned forward, eyes hastily darting from line to line, engrossed in 'The Dynamics of Electromagnetism; Volume III'. Vanya couldn't remember what book lay before her, but the page hadn't turned since she sat down. She stole glances every few moments in his direction, trying to inconspicuously get a glance at his wrist. The entire team - with the exception of her of course - had received their marks just over a week ago, symbolically uniting them even further as a team. And symbolically separating her even further from her family, if that were at all possible._

_Five sighed, not bothering to look up. "What?" he demanded, feeling her gaze, not bothering to mask his impatience with the interruption. Vanya turned her nose back towards her book, embarrassed at being caught. Her face hid behind a sheet of dark hair. Five irritably pushed his book a few inches away, tugged up his left sleeve, and held out his wrist in display. A small, circled umbrella was inked onto his skin, just as expected._

_Vanya hesitantly reached a hand toward his wrist. She paused to see if Five would pull away. He didn't. The boy sat motionless, anxious for her to get this obsession out of her system so he could focus. She finally ran a slim finger across the exposed skin, surprised that the dark, thin lines were so smooth against his flesh. "Did it hurt very bad?" she asked, not looking up at him yet, transfixed and jealous._

_Five scoffed. "Hardly. Allison and Klaus were just being dramatic, as usual. No one else cried over it." Vanya bit her lip, feeling the familiar sting of exclusion. She turned away from the physical proof of her feelings, not trusting her voice to hold steady with any more conversation. Five pulled his sleeve back down at her reaction, covering the mark from view. "It doesn't mean anything," he continued, dismissing the significance for her sake, sounding oh-so convincing. "It's just another way for Dad to maintain his false sense of control over us. Count yourself lucky for not having to waste your time with it."_

* * *

_[2003, original timeline]_

_It had been nine months since Five disappeared, but Vanya couldn't accept that he was really gone. She waited until late, until Dad would be done in his study, and the house was still. Slipping her bare feet out from the sheets, she tiptoed across the vast academy in the dark, stopping momentarily at the empty bedroom at the end of the hall. She dared not go in. Five always hated people invading his space without permission._

_Continuing on, she made her nightly trip to the kitchen. It had become her routine. She opened the cabinet without a second thought, grabbing the bread, peanut butter, and a half empty bag of mini-marshmallows. Habitually, she threw the sandwich together, being sure to pile on just enough marshmallows before adding the top piece of bread. The young teen cleaned up her mess with well-practiced silence. Before she returned to her room, she flipped the porch light on. _

_Just in case._

_The sandwich sat untouched the next morning, as it did every morning._

* * *

_[2019, eight days before the Apocalypse]_

"_You should have locks on your windows," Five stated, flicking on the lamp next to him, startling an adult Vanya as she stood in the doorway. She muttered a curse, catching her breath. What was he doing here? How did he even know where she was living?_

"_I live on the second floor," she grumbled, shaking her head at him in bewilderment, still doubting her own eyes. She couldn't believe he had returned, after all this time. _

"_Rapists can climb," he insisted matter-of-factly, an air of protectiveness hidden behind his harsh words. She had missed him. "You are so weird." She softly pushed her front door to a close, locking it as to not provoke another lecture from her unexpected company, and moved to the couch. It was surreal to see him sitting in her tiny apartment, a mirror image of the Five that had disappeared seventeen years ago. "Is that blood?" she questioned suddenly, noticing the stain on his collar._

_Five glanced down, fidgeting. "It's nothing," he replied with certainty, clearly not as concerned as Vanya. It was obvious from his body language that he wouldn't be disclosing any further details on the matter. Shaking her head with disapproval, she pressed on. It had been a long day, and if he was the same Five she had grown accustomed to all those years ago, she knew he wouldn't be sitting in her apartment to make idle chit chat. Everything he did was with purpose. "Why are you here?"_

"_I've decided you're the only one I can trust."_

"_Why me?" she asked without thinking, genuinely surprised. They had always had a mutual understanding with each other, but never with matters of importance. Always a simple, quiet companionship. Number Five was fiercely independent, skilled beyond belief, and a true genius among geniuses. He had managed to successfully travel through time at thirteen, something even their recently departed father deemed impossible for the teenaged superhero. What could he possibly need that she could help with?_

"_Because you're ordinary," he replied bluntly, never one to censor himself. The words stung, especially coming from him. Her face turned to stone, while Five's face softened slightly, realizing his mistake immediately. He hadn't meant it as an insult, she knew that, but it didn't make the pain less real. Backpedaling, he corrected himself gently. "Because you'll listen."_

* * *

_[2019, the day of the Apocalypse]_

_White light filled her vision. A rage of energy surrounded her, engulfing her in a blur of an otherworldly glow. Haunting, beautiful chords filled the air as she slid the bow effortlessly across the strings of her now snow white violin. Icy blue eyes stared blankly at the four bodies raised in the air, suspended in time with the power she had recently let take control of her emotions. Luther. Diego. Klaus. And yes, even Five. She spared no mercy for any of them. Fueled by her pain, she watched as they dangled in empty space, choking, unable to move as her rage induced power slowly started squeezing the life from them. She felt nothing for them in that moment, wishing nothing more than to bring an end to the source of her feelings of rejection._

_A deafening shot rang from her right side, snapping her out of her relentless concentration, releasing her pent up energy all at once. _

_A high pitched ringing filled her every thought as the world went dark._

* * *

_[2002, present timeline]_

Vanya fidgeted in her sleep, struggling to find a sense of comfort. Wisps of vague but familiar memories plagued her dreams, returning to her sometimes as a gentle trickle, but often as relentless waves, pounding against her subconscious. She turned to her side and dug her face deeper into the warmth of the bed, unwilling to open her eyes and deal with the consequences of waking up this morning. Harsh fumes of day old alcohol filled her nose as she repositioned herself, throwing her arm over what she quickly realized was not her pillow. A quick peek through her lashes confirmed her creeping suspicious.

She sat up in a shock, pulling her head up from Five's chest, which continued to rise and fall slowly, unaware of the situation she had found them in. Last night's events came back to her in a flash. Her eyes burned, crusty with salt leftover from countless tears. Five lay sprawled across the suddenly very small bed, sleeping much more peacefully than she had moments before. The boy reeked of scotch. It was no wonder he was still out like a log. He shifted in his sleep, the movement pulling his jacket sleeve down ever so slightly, enough for the iconic black lines of his Umbrella Academy tattoo to peak out. She reached out to graze the mark, recalling the memory from so many years ago.

A loud _pop _caused her to jerk her hand away from the slumbering boy. Glass from a shattered light bulb rained to the floor nearby. Was that her? She reached for the pill bottle in her pocket in a panic, anxiety creeping in fast, but stopped once her fingers squeezed around it. Her siblings had all made it clear that she needed to stop depending on her pills to suppress her powers. That hadn't worked the first time around, and it wouldn't work this time either.

"What in the hell was that?" muttered Five hatefully. He threw an arm over his eyes, blocking out the lighting from the remaining bulbs. Vanya quickly slid off her side of the hospital bed, intending on leaving before he stirred any further. She shouldn't be here. Their father would be furious.

Too late. Five pushed himself up with his arms, groaning and grumbling as he did, massaging circles into his temple with a hand. Vanya stood to the side, uncertain of what she could say. She had never intended on falling asleep here. He slowly met her gaze, having just realizing he wasn't alone in the room. Quickly coming to the same conclusion she had moments ago, he froze suddenly like a deer in the headlights, holding the exchange awkwardly. "Oh." He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair.

"Sorry," Vanya started, cheeks flushing, holding her hands up in defense. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to- I mean it was late and-" Five stood up suddenly, shushing her with a swift raise of his palm, craning his neck towards the clock. It was 7:58 in the morning, and Grace was due to arrive any moment with morning meal and medication.

"Shit, shit, shit," he chanted under his breath. He reached over and grabbed Vanya's elbow without another word as the familiar crackle of electricity teleported them back upstairs to his bedroom. Five released his hold on her and flew across the room, nearly tripping on one of last night's discarded bottles of scotch in his haste. Vanya stood there dumbly, watching as the boy ripped off his vest and shirt, snapping buttons off carelessly.

"Slow down there, old timer," Klaus laughed, standing suddenly in the doorway. "You have your whole life ahead of you _-_ _again _\- to work on those years of pent up hormones- Hey!" The taller boy wrestled the with the vest Five had thrown mercilessly at him. Five issued a quick "Screw you," to his provocative brother and snatched up the discarded hospital gown from the previous night.

"Gotta go," he declared unceremoniously, and was gone in a snap.

Klaus and Vanya exchanged a quick glance, both left unsettled by Five's speed of light thought process and abrupt behavior. She wasn't sure she would ever understand the complex person that was Number Five. Klaus smiled accusingly at his sister, a wide grin on his thin face. Five had abandoned her, leaving her to deal with Klaus alone. "So how was your night?" he teased, walking over to smooth out a wrinkle in her jacket. "Did you two manage to get any sleep?" She pushed him away. "Don't be gross," she hissed, dismissing his antics and closing her lips tight. She wouldn't give him any further ammunition in his attempt to start a scene.

"Okay, fine, fine," he sighed, following her out of Five's room and into the hall. No one knew how to have fun in this family. "Seriously, Vanya. How are you feeling?" She gave him a sideways glance, not eager to forgive his jokes at her expense, but gave in to his dorky, pleading grin.

"Surprisingly...decent." She stopped outside her own door, waiting for Klaus to leave her. "I mean I know we still have a ton of ground to cover. But I'm feeling oddly okay, even without my pills." Klaus looked relieved for her. "Great," he replied sincerely. "Now hurry and change, Ms. Walk-of-Shame. I'll walk you down to breakfast."

Vanya slapped his arm, but considered his request after a moment. "Fine," she gave in. "Be right back." A quick change into fresh uniforms later, they walked downstairs and joined the rest of the family in the dining room. The others were already eating. Klaus and Vayna were late, and waited for the harsh lecture that was sure to accompany their tardiness - but Reginald was absent.

"Where's Dad?" Klaus asked as he mock gestured the sign of the cross, silenting thanking the universe for their good luck.

"He told us he was going to be preoccupied this morning," Ben frowned remorsefully, hesitant to continue. "He said he had to deal with Five today." Vanya's heart sank, fearful for what that meant for her time travelling friend. She hoped he had made it back to the medical ward before their father.

She prayed they would find out soon.

* * *

**Sorry if you happened to find this chapter all glitched out. No idea what FF was thinking with that!**

**A much needed chapter from dear Vanya's point of view. I just can't stop. Loving the decision to carry on with Five and Vanya. ****Hopefully I'm getting the timelines correct enough, but forgive me if not, I've only watched the series twice now, and it's a lot of jumping back and forth. ****Would love to hear your input. I'm writing this on the fly with a very vague game plan, so everything is still very much open to possibilities. I plan on touching on Allison/Luther eventually, as well as other developing character relationships. I'm not sure I'll delve much into Hargreeves, as the series left it so open to possibilities with his storyline. **

**Hope you enjoyed!**

**Storm**


	4. Smooth Sailing

**Chapter 4: Smooth Sailing**

* * *

Without a moment to spare, Five stepped back into the familiar recovery room that had been his own personal jail cell for the better part of a week. He balanced clumsily on one foot, ripping off a shoe and sock from the opposite appendage, before switching to the other and doing the same. They were hastily shoved under his pillow, hiding the evidence of him leaving through the night.

As if on cue, the door swung open. To Five's surprise, it was Sir Reginald Hargreeves himself that strode into the small room. '_Well this is unexpected,'_ he thought. Five raised his brows in question, but kept his mouth zipped tight. His hands folded neatly in front of his body, awaiting whatever was to come, doing his best to play the part of someone taking prescription sedatives.

"Number Five," his father greeted with a sharp nod, adjusting his ever-present monocle.

"Sir." It took everything he had to stand there and say nothing of all the trouble his father would end up causing with his twisted parenting methods. There were so many ugly accusations he would love to throw at the man standing before him. '_Play the part. Unclench your jaw.' _His father opened the door and motioned Five to step out with him, catching the boy off guard. "Come. It's time we have a talk."

* * *

Hargreeves took a long sip from the fresh mug of coffee that had just been delivered, then turned to Grace. "Lovely. That will be all," he commanded with his naturally authoritative voice, and she dismissed herself with a smile.

Five eyed the ceramic mug with an intense jealousy. He would kill for a cup of coffee right now. The pleasant aroma wafted through the air, making him feel like an addict with the physical need he felt for the sinfully dark brewed dose of caffeine. Fidgeting in the stiff wooden chair, he forced himself to focus on the task at hand. His father had brought them to his office - the one place forbidden to them all as children. He couldn't remember a time that any of his siblings spent time in this room, except after their father's passing in the timeline they had just escaped. The boy couldn't help but search for the infamous journal they had eventually discovered, blue eyes raking over the surface before him. It wasn't on the desk, but he had no doubts that Reginald had it close by. It contained the man's life work, full of notes and secrets about the children he brought into the zany mansion of a home thirteen years ago.

"I suspect," the old man started with intention, "that you have noticed your lack of powers by now." Five nodded curtly, keeping his lips sealed. He didn't trust himself to speak right now. "That would be my doing, as I'm sure you have come to realize on you're own. Your intelligence rarely disappoints," Reginald chasted, somehow turning a should-be-compliment into an insult. "However, I am appalled at your attitude as of late, Number Five. I will not accept such disrespect from a member of The Umbrella Academy." Five dug his nails into the wooden arm rests. Disrespect? Was he truly getting disciplined on disrespect from a father who had thrown his children into grave vaults overnight, drugged them until they were numb to avoid dealing with their emotions, and sent them on countless life threatening missions by the age of ten? Hell, his lack of concern for the children ended up _killing_ Ben in their previous timeline.

"Having said that," the man continued, briefly interrupting Five's mental rage, "I want you to fully understand my concerns on the matter. Your stubbornness is relentless to a fault. It's time to settle this, and put an end to this fantasy of time traveling." Five leaned forward, angry, yes, but his curiosity was more than peaked. This was new. This conversation had never happened in his past. Whether that was a good or bad thing, he would soon discover.

Reginald continued on without giving Five a chance to retort, anger and concern clear in his tone. "I don't doubt your abilities - the potential and possibilities are there. But to use them would be sentencing yourself to a great deal of misfortune and pain. Time travelling is not to be taken with a grain of salt, there are rules and consequences issued for breaking those rules." Five's mind flew instantly to The Temps Commissions. Did his father know about them all this time? How? "Not only do you risk irreversibly injuring your body and mind, but you risk everyone's safety by disrupting the space time continuum." That much he knew already. "That is why," his father paused, adjusting the monocle set in front of his right eye, "I have issued this form of treatment. I must know with absolute certainty that you haven't already caused irreversible damage, and that it won't happen again, before I allow you the use of your powers again."

Five's eyes shifted away from his father's form, his brain racing with possibilities. This old bastard knew more than Five had ever suspected, that much was certain. All the times he had argued with Five when he was young - it wasn't because of control, or a lack of faith in his abilities or intelligence. Sir Reginald _knew _the dangers of time travel, possibly even having had personal experience with it. Five could tell in the way his father was treating him that this was not something the old man took lightly. If only his thirteen year old self could have shut up long enough to hear the reasoning, maybe things could have been different. Probably not, he concluded, thinking back to his equally stubborn thirteen-year-old self.

The boy wanted nothing more than to sit for hours and discuss the last several decades of his life, to discuss time travel and The Commission, and to demand to know how the eccentric old man had managed to discover time travel without powers himself.

But that just wasn't in the cards.

"You know it kills me to be wrong," Five finally spoke, shaking his head with a bitter smile. "And I understand that this revelation will likely only upset you further, and that an appropriate punishment will be issued." His father listened intently. Five had gotten his attention. Good. "I was wrong, though," he muttered, the corners of his mouth twitching with the effort it took took to speak the words aloud, even with the knowledge that was a bullshit lie. "I was so pissed-"

"Language, Number Five," the old man corrected him. Five tapped his heel mercilessly against the floor at the interruption.

"I was _mad_. And embarrassed to have wasted so much time and energy, just to fail in the end. I never jumped through time. I wasn't able to." The words left a bitter taste in his mouth. Belittling and dismissing his accomplishments pained him. Pride was one thing he held onto at all costs.

This better be worth it.

* * *

Five was dismissed to his room - his real room - and taken off the medication effective immediately, with the promise to not attempt anymore time travelling jumps. His story had miraculously worked. After a long, angry, one-sided conversation, his father had accepted his word as truth. With the threat of time travelling gone in Hargreeves mind, he was content to send Five back to his normal routine as of Monday, with the assurance that a long week of difficult and relentless trainings lie ahead of him.

With one issue finally solved, the boy finally allowed himself a moment of peace and solitude, for the first time since he arrived in 2002. There was something comforting about being back in his childhood room, despite the many terrible memories this house held. Not bothering to change into something more comfortable, he flung himself on top of the much more suitable mattress than what he'd been stuck with the last several nights. He hadn't had his very own bed for so many years. It was a luxury he hadn't attained in the future. Sleep never came easy to him, but he was definitely willing to give it a go, despite the fact that it was nearly noon and he hadn't eaten a full meal since lunchtime yesterday. Problems that could be solved later, he resolved, eyelids fluttering shut with exhaustion.

* * *

Luther, Diego, and Allison stood outside of Five's room that evening, staring at the boy's slumbering body in disbelief. It was a Friday night, and they had finished their studies with ease, a perk of having lived through it all before. Doing school work and exhausting themselves with training every day was not an ideal scenario for most of the thirty-year-olds, but it was better than the alternative. They had made their way upstairs, intent on cleaning up after dinner and heading to bed shortly, but stopped when they realized Five had finally rejoined them. Diego crossed his arms, smirking at the the still surreal sight of Five returning to them from the future. It had all been such a whirlwind of bits and pieces of information, no thanks to Five keeping details to himself. It felt so long ago already.

"That bastard managed to make it out of Dad's watch after all," Diego chuckled. "I thought for sure the old man was pissed enough to let him rot down there."

Allison chuckled softly in agreement, leaning against the doorframe. "Five knows how to talk his way out of most anything."

"Yeah, that or teleport away and avoid anything he considers a waste of his time," Diego snorted irritably. "The guy is a prick. Do you even realize how many times he left us without a single damn explanation last week? He may look like a kid, but-"

"We _all _look like kids, Diego," Allison reminded him. Something they may never get used to.

"Not the point. I swear he's as irritating and emotionless as Dad is sometimes, the little know-it-all." They had all had their moments with Five leading up to the Apocalypse - every decision he had included them in, every conversation he bothered having with them, it was all working towards one single minded goal, never concerned about anything or anyone else. Not once, after decades of believing his siblings were dead and gone from his life forever, did Five show any sign of emotion at finally reuniting with his family. Even last night, he was silent as apologies and explenations were passed around the room between the rest of the group, choosing to exclude himself.

"I know we're all on the same team, and we're all in agreeance to the overall plan to fix things...I mean we owe our lives to Five right now," Luther spoke truthfully. "But he calls shots and makes decisions without a single thought about what any of us would have to say. He's so focused on fixing the Apocalypse, and on the timeline - and don't get me wrong, I know we all are - but I think there's more going on with him than what he lets on." Number One finished his sentence with two sharp taps to his own head, indicating his concern for their brother's mental state. Five had always been moody and distant growing up, but never quite as emotionally detached as they knew him today. "You don't spend thirty years talking to a _mannequin _and come out a-okay. Normal people don't just take a job as a hitman and murder countless people with no remorse."

"We should definitely keep a close watch on him," Allison agreed. The things he had been through frightened her. He was nearly a stranger to them, now. "He needs help, maybe as much as Vanya does. Though I doubt he'd accept help from anyone." Five had never let any of them get too close, even before all the trauma he'd been through.

Five roughly turned in his sleep, a mumbled 'Delores' escaping his lips. Allison's frown continued, a bit softer now. She pulled the door shut gently. "C'mon, before we wake him up. We have seventeen years to deal with Vanya and Five."

* * *

Vanya's hand trembled as she ran her fingers along the polished wood of her father's old violin. Here it was, in one piece again, looking the way she always remembered. Untarnished by its owners sudden destructive desires. Free from the guilt of all the pain and bloodshed it caused. That _she_ had caused. She slammed the case shut and shoved it under her bed. It was heartbreaking. All she wanted to do was play. To get lost in her music. The crescendos, the stringendos, the feel of her bow sliding across metal strings, the rise and fall of the pure, vibrant notes that used to calm her in moments of stress. Days ago, the small wooden instrument was the only thing that brought her joy in life. Now she was terrified to lay a hand on it.

A soft knocking came from her door. "Hey sis. Got a minute?" A quick glance revealed Allison at her door, stunning even at thirteen. Vanya stood up and flashed her sister a warm smile, thankful for the well timed distraction. "Yeah, come in."

Allison sat on the edge of the twin sized bed, clapping her hands on her knees. "So," she stared, dragging the note out. "Did you see that Five was back?"

"Um. Yeah. Yes," Vanya stammered over her words, shuffling through a stack of sheet music on her desk. She was still feeling awkward, wondering if Klaus has already shared his crude jokes with the rest of them. "Ben stopped by and told me just a bit ago." Allison nodded a confirmation, not noticing Vanya's off behavior with the mention of Five. The dark skinned girl chewed on a nail, clearly distracted. "What's going on?" Vanya asked firmly, taking a seat next to her on the bed.

Allison quickly squeezed her eyes closed, attempting to hold back the tears that threatened to roll down her face. "I just miss her. I miss her so much," she choked out finally, pulling her knees up and burying her face. Oh of course, Vanya realized. Claire. She reached out immediately to wrap her arms around her only sister, feeling stupid and selfish that she hadn't thought to come to Allison about this before now. Of course she was devastated.

"Oh, Allison. I'm so sorry," she apologized. This was her fault, too. Her actions had caused this pain. Would she ever stop hurting those close to her, or was she just destined to fail at every relationship? "I can't even imagine the pain you're in. Have you talked to Five? If anyone knows a way to get Claire back into this timeline, its him." Allison sniffled pitifully, nodding her head to confirm that she had. "Yeah, the night he woke up we talked some. He seems to think there's a chance, if I find a way to still end up with Patrick in the future. The timing is tricky. But...it means using my powers to make him love me again. I hate it, but for Claire...Vanya, I'd do anything to get her back, no matter how long I have to wait."

"I know it's miserable now, but that's incredible news," Vanya rubbed her back gently. Her sister continued crying, shaking her head in disagreement. "If Five said it, he means it. He wouldn't tell you it was possible unless it really is," she encouraged.

"That's not the problem," her sister continued. "Its just...I mean Luther and I…How am I suppose to ask that of him? How can I be with Luther, and still eventually need to wind up with my ex-husband in order to bring Claire back into my life?"

Ah. Well that was a tricky one. Vanya sat up straight brushed through her dark locks, her shock hidden securely. She always had her suspicions about Luther and Allison. They all assumed. But it had always remained an unspoken truth. "Well," Vanya began, reaching over to lay her hand over Allison's. "I don't mean this to sound ridiculously insensitive or obvious, but...have you just tried talking to him? I mean it's Luther. The man would literally _die _for you. If there's a way for you to get Claire back, he's going to support it, you realize that, right?" Allison just smiled, realizing that Vanya was right. It would be hard, but when had their lives ever been easy? The two women sat there, hand in hand, silent for a moment. There wasn't much more that could be done or said at the moment. Claire's existence was years and years away from their present.

"Can I ask you something a little bit unrelated?" Vanya said finally. She was feeling more confident that usual. Unrestricted. Her medicine wasn't holding back her emotions anymore. It was a blessing and a curse, truly.

"Anything," Allison smiled. They were thirty years overdue for a girls night to bond.

"You and Luther…" she trailed off, not wanting to say anything offensive, unsure of how to ask. It had always been strange how _unstrange _it was between the two of them.

"Is it weird to have feelings for him?" Allison offered, finishing Vanya's thoughts. Vanya grimaced, regretting the conversation already. "No," Allison answered her own question. "I know we all grew up here, and we refer to each other as family. It's a nice thought, but we all know it's not true, not really," she explained. That much was correct. Vanya loved her dysfunctional little family, but they were hardly raised like family. Their so-called-father never even named the seven of them. There was never meant to be any emotional value between the seven children. Just an education and a plan to use their powers for good, as per Sir Reginald's instructions. It was more like an insane boarding school that mentally stunted children than it ever was a family household. Allison continued, eyes sparkling as she did. "But Luther especially...Luther has always just been my best friend. He's never been like a brother to me. More like the boy next door. Being with him is such an easy choice." Vanya nodded in understanding as her sister trailed off dreamily. Her dark eyes turned to Vanya, perfectly shaped eyebrows raised in question. "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious," Vanya replied. Klaus had pestered her so much today, it had been on her mind, despite the fact that she knew how innocent the situation was last night with Five. Any one of her siblings would have treated her the same way. She was sure of it. Not only that, but she had been so sure about Leonard. Or Harold, she remembered bitterly. It was something she hadn't let herself think about since she'd been back in the right state of mind. It was off limits for now. She pushed the thoughts away, not wanting to spoil her time with Allison.

The conversation between the two sisters turned around to lighter topics for a bit, before Allison departed to her own room to turn in. Vanya climbed into her bed, more than ready for a weekend without never-ending assignments from their father. She stared at the ceiling idly, considering Allison's words and the new perspective they provided. Imagining a love like she and Luther had, or even that she and Claire had, was next to impossible. Growing up, she was rejected by each one of her siblings, Five being an occasional exception to the rule, and she assumed that was mainly due to his own convenience. As an adult, Vanya's relationships had always started and ended with the first date. The only one to progress further ended up bringing a fiery end to all of mankind. Her pitiful desire to belong had fooled her then, and she had a feeling There was no sense in overthinking it. At long last, Vanya dozed off, another restless night of sleep awaiting her.

* * *

**Another quick little chapter with a bit more Vanya, and a few open issues that are still on the table. Much to come in the next few chapters! :3 Thank you from the bottom of my heart for all of the follows and favorites! I love hearing from you guys, so be sure to drop a review. Until next time!**

**Storm**


	5. Saturday Night

**Chapter Five: Saturday Night**

* * *

The sun rose beautifully over the city, warm golden rays of sun peeking around buildings where it could, making for an absolutely gorgeous Saturday morning. Birds tweeting, bees buzzing, all that picture perfect bullshit. Five wasn't impressed. The only thing that would impress him this early in the morning was a fresh cup of joe. He knew better than to expect to find coffee in the kitchen by now, but that fact did nothing to ease his disappointment when he came up empty handed in his search.

"Guess I'm going out."

"Shotgun," Klaus called in a sing-song voice from where he sat sprawled out on the kitchen table. Ben sat at the opposite end, a book in front of him. The children had the run of the house today, with their father gone, doing whatever it was he did when he left with no explanations. The man had many investments around the world, and obviously kept secrets well enough, so no surprise there. Pogo and Mom were around somewhere, but were both much more lax with the children, letting them enjoy the rare free day to just be kids. Or adults, in this case.

"Not a chance," Five retorted immediately, not bothering to remind his brother that their dad had taken the car. Regardless, he refused to let Klaus ruin coffee for him this fine morning. Ben glanced up from his book, waiting for Klaus's inevitable outburst. Not one to disappoint, Klaus groaned dramatically, slamming his palms on the table like a toddler throwing a tantrum. "Five, _pleeeease_, I just want waffles, and I'll never ask for anything again, I swear on my father's grave," he finished with a cheesy smile, unable to keep from laughing at his own joke.

"That line might have had to potential to succeed a week ago, when Dad was _actually _dead," Five countered. Was it possible that Klaus had become _more _annoying now that he was staying sober?

"I doubt that," snorted Diego as he entered the room, catching the tail end of their conversation. "I'm pretty sure that the stick in your ass was there last week, too, Five." He sat next to Ben, his chair scraping against the floor loudly, a proud smirk plastered on his face.

The boy in question scowled back hatefully. "Oh gee, I'm sorry if I was coming across as a little stressed while I single handedly managed to come up with a solution to save the human race, which unfortunately for me, included you dimwits."

Diego flashed him a wide grin, propping his feet up on the table and rocking the chair back on two legs. "Thanks Five. A-plus apology." Five clenched his fists tightly. He was in no mood for Diego's attitude this morning.

As if he had an ability to sense the tension, Luther entered the room, Allison right on his tail. They both paused, throwing concerned glancing between the two fuming boys. "What's the problem here?" he asked Ben, pointing a finger between the two squabbling boys. Ben just shook his head hopelessly and sighed.

"Enter our _fearless _Number One, here to save the day with his quick wits and world renowned leadership skills," Five commented sarcastically, lashing out from already bad mood. Luther made a fist and took a step towards his much shorter brother. Allison grabbed his elbow, stopping the blond in his tracks.

"Seriously guys?" Ben interjected, slamming his book shut. "It's been less than a week, and you're already at each other's throats? We are suppose to be working together. As a family."

Five laughed crudely, shoving his hands into his short pockets. "Listen up children, I didn't bring us all back to learn to play nice and skip off into the sunset together," he spat venomously. "We are here to train Vanya to control her powers and prevent the damn Apocalypse. That's it. That's the _only _thing that matters. If you feel the need to get sentimental and discuss your feelings and personal problems every time someone breaks a nail, go for it. But I think I'll pass." He stepped forward, vanishing, and reappeared behind Diego's chair. A solid kick later, Diego tipped backwards with curses flying from his mouth. Five reappeared again across the room with a satisfied grin, his hand already on the door knob. It slammed shut behind him.

* * *

He hadn't quite made it to coffee yet, still in a bitter mood while he wandered the city streets to fume. Eventually, he found himself standing outside a storefront in the city, staring through the enormous window. People on the streets brushed by the raven haired teen, going on about their Saturday without a second glance at the uniformed boy. He was so fed up with the lack of focus his siblings displayed. They were all so self absorbed with their own issues, their own lives. Couldn't they see that it wasn't about them right now? There were far more lives at stake, even now. He should have known better that to think they could set aside their own problems to focus on the big picture. The proof was already glaringly obvious. He had been incapacitated against his will all week, and they had accomplished nothing without him. They were just as useless now as they had been in 2019.

"Hey," a soft voice greeted. He didn't have to look over to know who it was. Vanya stood next to him, a styrofoam cup in each hand. She handed one of the cups over to Five without comment, steam rising in tendrils from the opening in the lid. They stood silently for several minutes, no pressure to speak. Something he had always appreciated about her. Vanya followed Five's gaze into the clothing store, where a white-skinned mannequin was displayed in the window, dressed eloquently in an expensive looking blouse. "Is that her?" she asked hesitantly.

"No." He took a cautious sip, careful to not burn his mouth with the hot beverage. "She likely doesn't exist yet. If she does, I would have no way of knowing where to look." That wouldn't stop him from double checking every time he passed a clothing store window, though. He had released himself from the ties he'd been holding onto with Delores before the Apocalypse had happened, giving himself the space he needed to move on, to grow up. She wanted that for him, and he needed it. But it was easier said than done. Silence hung in the air once again.

"I'm sure you miss her. I can tell how much you cared for her," Vanya commented finally, unsure of what else to say. Five flinched slightly at her words. "Don't patronize me." He knew what his siblings must think of him, and his...unique situation with Delores. "It wasn't like _that_. She was there when no one else was. She kept me sane, or partially so. None of you could begin to understand."

"I'm not," Vanya defended herself instantly, habitually brushing her bangs away. "I'm not patronizing you, or judging you, or anything like that, Five. And you're right, none of us could understand what you had to go through. I couldn't imagine. But that doesn't mean that we don't still care about you." Five frowned and silently shifted his gaze to the streets, watching traffic carry on as if everything was okay in the world. He said nothing, still feeling irritable from this morning's exchange with his brothers. "Listen, I wanted to say thanks," Vanya continued after receiving no response.

"What for?" he asked curiously, finally turning to her for the first time since she had approached him. She, too, was wearing her assigned uniform, the Academy's crest embroidered across the front of the jacket. After a week of growing accustomed to the adult version of Vanya, it was still an odd sight to see her teenage body standing before him. Hell, he was still unaccustomed to his own change in body, and had avoided looking in a mirror since his return.

"For the other night," she muttered, unwilling to repeat any of the specifics. "For being there." She hesitated, then continued, placing a hand gently on his shoulder. "I'm sorry I unloaded on you like that. I just appreciate you taking the time to listen. And I just wanted to make sure you knew that if you ever needed to talk about the Delores thing or-"

"No," he cut her off immediately, jerking his shoulder away from her touch as if it had burned him. What was with all the emotional burdens being unloaded on him lately? They legitimately did not understand how important is was for them to prioritize the fate of the world over any individual psychological issues leftover from their upbringings. "I don't want to talk about _anything _you could help with, Vanya. I was simply drunk the other night," he hissed an excuse, dismissing the intoxicated vulnerability he had shown her. Vanya's stomach flipped a little at his response, feeling rejected. She turned away sharply, her dark hair whipping behind her, unwilling to let him see the pain his words had caused.

"Shit," Five sighed, processing his own words after a moment. That may have been a little harsh. "Vanya, wait," he groaned, teleporting in front of her, blocking her path.

"No," she fumed, brushing around him. "You're being an ass." He ignored the insult and kept pace next to her instead, matching her angry stride. They turned a corner, walking into a group of women with shopping bags and expensive purses clutched in their grasps, gaining the two teens several dirty looks.

"I'm being realistic," he argued back. "If that makes me an ass, then fine. I'm the _only _one of us of taking this seriously." She stopped suddenly, and Five backstepped to stand next to her. They stood face to face, neither wanting to be the first to back down. Her dark eyes were full of menace, unlike the normally subdued girl he had grown up with. He continued making his argument. "We're here to fix the timeline."

Vanya scoffed, shaking her head at him in anger. "To fix me, you mean. Like I'm some broken thing that you can just fix with a few training sessions?" Five swallowed, unsure of how to respond without further upsetting her. "You're not doing anyone any favors with all of the pressure you're putting on us, Five. We're all under a lot of stress, and we all want things to be different this time around. But it's not going to happen overnight. And it's not going to happen if we're constantly bickering and dysfunctional as a team, and as a family. Luther and Diego talked to me about some of what you said. About The Commission. About the things you did while you worked for them." Five opened his mouth to speak, but Vanya held a hand up, silencing him. She wasn't done with him yet. "You may think you're better than everyone in this family, or better off without anyone's help," she accused of him, jabbing a finger into his chest, "But we need you. And if you take a step back from your egotistical self, you might just come to realize that you need us too." Her voice trailed into a softer tone by the end of her rant. "You don't have to deal with it all alone, Five. You need to accept that. Please."

Five held her intense eyes with his own, unspoken words on the tip of his tongue, secrets he hadn't shared with his snitch brothers back when he thought they were days away from dying. Things The Commission had done to him, changes to his very being, things he had agreed to in order to have a chance to return home to them. It wasn't as simple as a change in attitude. Five wasn't the same person he had been since the last time it was 2002. It was just another thing that none of them could comprehend. Another thing to bury inside himself.

Giving up the argument was easier than explaining his dark past to someone as innocent as Vanya. He threw his hands behind his head, looking to the sky in desperation. "Fine," he affirmed simply. Jumping back into a family dynamic was a challenge after spending so long focussing solely on day-to-day survival. Glancing around the street, he realized suddenly that they had drawn a bit of an audience with their argument. "I get it. I'll try to play nice." he confirmed dryly, speaking at a normal volume as to not draw more attention to the two of them. "Can we please drop this for now, and get off the street? I think you may have gotten a little too angry back there," he pointed behind them. The last several poles and street signs they had passed were all bent at unnatural angles. She had let her powers escape unwittingly, just like before.

Vanya nodded, horrified, and pulled him by the arm to continue in the opposite direction. "Where exactly are we going?" Five demanded, allowing himself to be unwillingly drug along for the time being. "Griddy's," Vanya replied. "I told everyone we would meet up with them there." Five's icy eyes narrowed, unnoticed by the woman dragging him down the sidewalk.

"And you were just so certain in telling them I would be willing to join you?" Vanya flashed him a confident smile, taking him by surprise. Confidence was never a word he would have used to describe her in the past. Not since she was a small child, before the relentless seclusion and medication. It was most definitely becoming on her, he noted, feeling a slight flutter in his chest.

'_Well that's new,' _he noted, caught off guard. He hadn't had the pleasure of dealing with the confusion of fluctuating hormones since he'd been back. _'Damn this adolescent body.' _

A few blocks later, they approached the front of Griddy's. One of the team's favorite spots to escape to as children, sneaking out in the middle of the night, eating more donuts than feasibly possible. It was hard to look at the chic little diner as a place to escape to for fun after having to murder a dozen armed soldiers trying to drag him back to The Handler. It should have bothered him more as they walked through the doors, he supposed, but after so much death throughout his many years, he was numb to it. He was apathetic about most things these days.

The duo approached the large corner booth - the same one they requested with every Griddy's adventure when they were young, he recalled vaguely, trying to think back to how it had been nearly forty years prior. The boy received five very unpleasant expressions from the already assembled team, ranging from pity to murderous. Vanya pushed him forward slightly with firm palm against the small of his back. Five cleared his throat, addressing the rest of the Umbrella Academy uncomfortably. "I realize I've been a little….distant," he started out, hands finding their way to his short pockets. "It's been a long time since I've had to socialize with anyone for any extended amount of time. It's been an adjustment, to say the least." The group continued to stare at him, unsatisfied. He glanced back at Vanya, annoyed. She raised her brows expectantly and gestured for him to go on. Five let out a sigh, knowing that an informal, half-assed apology wasn't going to cut it this time. "Fine, I'm sorry," he snapped at them. He ignored the smug smiles on his brother's faces and scooted into the booth next to Klaus, leaving what little room was left on the end for Vanya. She slid into the chair, sitting elbow to elbow next to him. Five adjusted himself as well as he could, feeling all too aware of the lack of personal space.

"Nice to have you back, little Five," Klaus ruffled Five's neatly combed hair, receiving a sharp smack on the wrist in return. Five ran his fingers back through his hair neatly.

"Do that again and I'll bite you," he threatened. Klaus held his hands up innocently, and Five noted that the tattoos on his palms were missing, idly wondering when his brother had acquired them in the first place. He reached into his jacket and pulled out the worn and tattered book he had been carrying around for so many years - Vanya's biography. The margins were nearly full, with virtually no room left for notes. He'd even written between the lines of text. He supposed now that the immediate threat of the Apocalypse was at bay, he could take the time to replace his makeshift journal, but it was hard to part with it after all this time. There were several things he had been meaning to record for his notes, the effects that time travelling had on his siblings vs his own quantum state version being one of those things. He quickly got to work finding a way to squeeze his comments in, overlapping an old equation that had proved to be a dead end ages ago.

"Is that my book?" Vanya asked, a gleam of joy lighting up her face at the recognition. The rest of his family was carrying on loudly, arguing passionately about the pros and cons of jelly filled donuts and their worth in the world. Five rolled his eyes, tuning them out, his left hand scribbling furiously in tiny script. "Yep," he replied simply, ignoring the way his heart pounded when she reached over to touch a page. Her fingers grazed the familiar words she had labored over nearly five years ago. "Probably the only one in existence in this timeline, since the events causing you to write the book in the first place have already changed significantly."

"True," she trailed off thoughtfully. It was a sad thought that all her hard work now meant nothing, but worth the trade of having a chance to redo it all, she supposed. Five closed the pages together and tucked the pen away into his jacket. Vanya's eyes lingered on the book in his hands. Out of all the books he could have chosen to travel around with all those years, it warmed her heart to know that it had been hers. Maybe a piece of her was there with him during his hellish time alone. She hoped so.

"You can borrow it if you want," he offered hesitantly. He was possessive over the flimsy binding of paper. It hadn't left his side since he discovered it among the ruins of their city. But this was Vanya, and for some unexplained reason, she was an exception to his strict rules. "But I wouldn't advise it until you feel like you have more control over your powers. Reminding yourself how much you hated life at the Academy is probably not the best idea while you're actually _living _at the Academy again."

"Fair point," she agreed. "Another time, maybe."

"Speaking of your powers," he moved on, turning to the rest of the group. "We need to start discussing the best plan of action to begin Vanya's training. We can start today, since Dad is conveniently out of town as is." Klaus groaned loudly. "C'mon dude, it's our day off. We've done nothing but stress for the last two weeks. Haven't we earned a break?"

Five held his gaze, unwavering. "We'll take a day off once we've stopped the end of the world." Diego and Luther exchanged a knowing glance. Five caught the exchange. "Got something to add?" he asked them, folding his hands together on the table.

"Klaus is right," Diego spoke up, a newfound appreciation found in his wacky brother since he had started on the path to staying clean. "It's been a hell of a two weeks for all of us. We could use a day to unwind." Five tapped his foot impatiently, looking to Luther instead in hopes that he would favor with him.

"We do need a break, Five. You haven't had to jump back into training yet. Dad's been pissed thanks to the _actual _thirteen year old Five being a little jerk, and taking it out on all of us. But," he paused, holding up a finger. "We could discuss plans today, and start tomorrow? Meet in the middle?" Five glanced to Vanya, who shrugged at him. She was fine with it. He sighed.

"Fine," the boy gave in, surprising everyone. He promised he would play nice, even if it killed him. "Tomorrow we start. We need somewhere secluded from Dad, and safe from any kind of noticeable destruction. Any suggestions?"

Allison spoke up softly. "We could use the vault," she offered hesitantly, eyes on Vanya. "You wouldn't be alone this time. But I understand if that's too hard for you." All eyes turned to Vanya. She cringed at the thought of being in that dark, isolated room again. Her nightmares were full of memories of her time spent there, alone. "I mean it's the only place that makes sense. It's in the house, and Dad won't notice us there," she admitted, voice weak. "May as well use it for some good, I guess." The matter was settled.

"We'll have to take shifts," Ben brought up. "Grace and Pogo will eventually notice if we're all missing in the evenings."

"We'll split up then," Luther took over." Klaus, Diego, and Five will be team one. Ben, Allison and I will be team two. We can start tomorrow with you three," he suggested.

"Absolutely not," Five declared stubbornly. "I'm not rotating out. I have the most experience out of the lot of us. Send whoever you want to help in the evenings, but I'll be there regardless to oversee any progress." It was clear to everyone that it wasn't a subject open to debate. They didn't dare to press the issue. Vanya held back a smile, relieved that he would be there.

"Fine, fine, work yourself to death if you want, be chivalrous or whatever, I don't give a rat's ass," Klaus dismissed him. "Can we please just order some damn breakfast? I'm starving." And so they did, much to Five's dismay. They hadn't even touched on training methods and plans on the chance things turned south. Five let it go for today, knowing that he'd be the one making the final decisions one way or another, and ordered a coffee.

He watched as the server at the counter prepare their orders, wishing she'd hurry and fill his simple request. The woman cursed as she struggled with a toaster on the counter. The device had jammed, and the smell of burnt toast filled the air.

He blinked and was back in the future's destruction.

Gone were his siblings, the booth, and the restaurant. Ash and rubble surrounded him. Smoke filled the air, burning his lungs. His throat dried up instantly, making it hard to swallow. There was nothing but fire and piles of the city that once stood so tall. He felt the sweat collect on his brow, his muscles tense, his breathing hasten.

How was he here again? Panic filled his chest.

"Here's you coffee, hon." A mug clinked against the table, snapping him out of his episode. Most of the table hadn't caught the few moments he was mentally absent, but Vanya and Diego had. They were staring at him with troubled expressions. Five took a deep breath and used a napkin to wipe the sweat from his face, not making eye contact with the two of them. They all returned to the Academy some time later as a group, Five having successfully dodged their attempts to catch his eye and have a conversation about this. At long last, they snuck through the kitchen door, most of the kids cheery and in high spirits from the outing.

Five wasted no time in abandoning the group, jumping through space to the safety of a secluded room in the mansion of a house, an extra parlor they had never had a use for. His room would have been more comfortable, but they would have followed him there. He sunk into a dusty leather armchair and pulled the familiar book from his jacket for the second time that day, intent on distracting himself with what was likely his thousandth reread of Vanya's life story. It was well written, but it wasn't exactly a pleasant read, coming across a bit depressing, really. But it was an escape from his own life. So he happily scanned the lines of text, eager to put his own troubles aside for now and get lost in someone else's sorrows.

* * *

**Hey readers! It's been a couple of days, hm? Sorry for the delay. I took some time to retouch the previous four chapters. No changes in plot or major dialogue, just touching up tidiness, descriptions, grammar, and vocabulary for my sake, to better fit my take on the characters. I'm too impatient to do that before I post, I suppose. #needsabeta **

**You may have noticed some angsty mystery going on with Five's past - stay tuned with that. I may be delving into comic references a bit, as I just bought the first volume, and am thoroughly enjoying those as well. **

**This week has been a little busy for me. Tomorrow (today, by the time I end up post this chapter) is my kiddos 2nd birthday, so we have celebrations and preparations for the upcoming party, plus a family day planned on Sunday. Hoping to still get another chapter out before the week is over, but we'll see!**

**Thanks for all the kind words! I love your love. xD**

**Storm**


	6. In the Heat of the Moment

**Chapter 6: In the Heat of the Moment**

* * *

**[Fall of 2002, original timeline]**

Five stood on his desk, scribbling furiously on his bedroom wall with a piece of chalk. Nothing particularly new to the casual onlooker. He did this often, preferring chalk when he was calculating rough drafts of equations. It was simply easier to swipe away a mistake or to change a numeral. Flipping a pencil around to erase something wasn't all that time consuming, but nonetheless this was faster, and waisted much less paper. Once he inevitably figured this final piece out, he would record it in pen for safe keeping, but not until then.

The stick snapped in his hand as he pressed it against the wall to write the next number, perhaps with a bit too much force. He growled, practically a scream, and flung it across the room where it busted into shards above his bed. His pillow was covered in dust and bits of chalk from the overreaction, but he couldn't care less about it. Five covered his eyes with both hands, either not remembering or not giving a damn that his hands were also covered in white chalk residue. He wanted to scream again. Today had_not _gone the way he had hoped it would.

The Umbrella Academy had been called out to a mission. A simple nut-case bringing firearms into the mall in the middle of the day. They had been tipped off ahead of time, and fully prepared when the suspect showed up. Five had done exceptionally well, if he did say so himself, practically saving Allison's life when the crazed man managed to get a shot in. He had teleported in to push her out of the way just in the nic of time, walking away with nothing but a slight graze of a bullet wound on his shoulder. Pretty mundane in the life of a superhero, but honorable nonetheless. Their father was impressed with the speed at which they had all handled the situation - not that he would ever verbalize it to them - but they all knew. It was a rare day where everyone was in high spirits.

So Five decided today was the day. He decided to talk to Dad about his theories, his hopes and dreams, the one and only thought and equation that had been on his mind for months.

He wanted to time travel.

Hargreeves shut it down immediately, with unnecessary anger, in Five's opinion. The man was irate at the mere mention of the topic. It was unusual, even for the eccentric old man. Five had tried to ask questions, had tried to explain all of the time and hard work he had been putting into his theories - something he thought would be impressive to his intellectual of a father. But no, Reginald reacted worse even still at Five's continued desire to pursue the subject. For a brief moment, Five had thought the man was going to slap him across the face for questioning his decision. Hargreeves had never physically hurt them outside of training - only mentally, emotionally - but maybe Five's defiance had pushed him over that ledge. Instead, their adopted father drug the teenager across the room by the scruff of his jacket, forcefully removing him from the parlor, and demanded that Five never speak of it again. It was a humiliating act for a twelve year old boy, as if he were a toddler protesting bathtime. Five's pride had been hit hard.

All his hard work, dismissed in a single minute.

He hadn't even had a chance.

What was the point of all of this? He had nearly perfected his spatial jumps, growing bored with the limitations they presented. Five was faster than the entire team, just as strong as most of them despite his slight size disadvantage, and easily the most intelligent. If he couldn't grow his power, why stay in this house? He would prove the old man wrong, with or without support. The dark haired teen jumped down from the desk, opening a drawer to aggressively dig for another piece of chalk.

"Vanya, you've been practicing the _same _song for _hours!" _the whiney voice of his sister echoed down the hall. A door slammed shut. Allison's, presumably. The Rumor was used to getting what she wanted, and was terribly dramatic in her efforts. As expected, though, the melodious sounds of Vanya's instrument were cut off abruptly. Five hadn't really noticed that she had been playing, he was so used to it at this point. Playing the violin was essentially all she did, and his room was directly across the hall. It was inevitable.

He ignored the short-lived drama from the girls and continued digging for chalk, finally finding the box and pulling out a fresh new piece. Returning to his perch on the desk, he struggled to find his place again, staring for a long time at his own handwriting on the walls.

It was too quiet now. He couldn't work like this.

He sighed, defeated for the moment, and jumped to Vanya's door, knocking insistently.

"I already stopped, Allison. Go away." She sounded upset. Five hesitated, not wanting to open Pandora's box by pursuing this further. But this was Vanya. And sometimes, _just sometimes, _she was tolerable to be around. She had always put up with his obsessive theoretical ramblings that were likely beyond her comprehension, and never questioned his generally detatched personality. He would allow her to complain about their family, happy to chime in his own opinions on the mess of a 'family' that was the Hargreeves. Their conversations had diminished a bit lately, slowly but surely. The Umbrella Academy was in full swing, fighting crime in the public's eye, just like Dad had always planned for them. Meanwhile, Vanya had been quieter than usual. Sad. Apathetic. The only thing that seemed to hold her interest was her violin, which she had become quite skilled with.

Five missed their nightly talks, or lack of talking some nights when they both desired a quiet companion. But the extra trainings lately, combined with working obsessively on his time travelling theories, had exhausted him. He was fatigued most nights. The extra time to himself had been nice at first, being a bit of an introvert, but even he needed to speak to someone with more than a single brain cell on occasion. Vanya was quiet, and not the most interesting person living in a home of extraordinarily gifted teens, but she was smart, kind, and very much different than the rest of the group of misfits. She listened. He appreciated that about her.

He blinked into the tiny room in a snap, not bothering to knock again. She looked up from her seat on the bed, startled at his sudden appearance. Her eyes were red. She had been crying, always so sensitive. He offered her half a smile, but was surprised as the previously miserable looking girl before him started giggling at the sight of him.

"What's that for?" he demanded with a scowl. Vanya smiled - a real, happy smile, full of the mischievous spark he rarely saw in her these days. It was hard to be mad at her.

"Your face," Vanya responded, pointing her two index fingers at her own face to show him where. He reached up to wipe where she had indicated, but stopped halfway up, noticing the chalk still coating his hands. He tried wiping his face with the back of his hand, but judging by her continued laughter, that only made it worse. "Come here," she insisted, patting the bed and grabbing a new tissue from her nightstand. He begrudgingly listened, not wanting to ruin her much improved mood. Vanya dabbed at his face delicately, a smile still lingering on her lips.

"Glad I could provide you with some amusement," he muttered sarcastically as she wiped a spot on his temple. Vanya didn't respond, but licked a finger and reached for the spot she had been working on. Five glared menacingly. The girl rolled her eyes and continued her treatments, well acclimated with his casual bravado. His threats were empty around her, and she knew it. "You shouldn't let Allison order you around," he stated abruptly. Vanya's hand froze a few inches away from the boy's face, not expecting Five to bring up what had happened just a few minutes prior.

"It's fine," she replied simply. Her smile was gone.

"We both know that's not true," he retorted. "She's turning in a tyrant. You shouldn't-"

"I said it's fine, Five," Vanya insisted, a bit more force behind her statement this time. She stood up and crossed the room, opening the door for him. "You should go back to your own room. I'm sure you're probably busy anyways, judging by the chalk." Her face had turned cold again. She was so easy to dismiss herself, to dismiss her own feelings and needs. Because that's what everyone else did to her. Five had gotten a taste of what she must feel like today, when his father dismissed his dream to time travel. Five frowned, but stood from his spot and strode to the door. He stopped in the threshold, meeting her defeated eyes with his own determined ones.

"For the record, I think you're pretty good." Vanya's eyes softened a little. A complement from Five was rare. "I like hearing you practice." He smiled thinly and crossed the hallway, returning to his room solemnly.

Several minutes later, the soft, practiced strokes of her violin could be heard again. Allison groaned loudly somewhere down the hall, but Five smiled. He picked up the piece of chalk from his desk and returned to his equations.

* * *

**[2002, present timeline]**

It was Sunday evening. The day had gone on rather dryly, with their dad still being absent until much later tonight. Most of the team had gone out again, exploring the past city of their childhood. Five had avoided them all successfully the entire day, still feeling detached from the world. But now it was growing dark outside, dinner was over, and the teens were all home again. Soon, "team one" as Luther had so prestigiously named them, would be starting Vanya's first night of training.

Five waited downstairs alone, staring at the enormous metal vault imbedded in the wall. The dim lighting flickered unwelcomingly as the bulbs warmed up. He had only been down here once, by accident, back when he was still perfecting his spatial jumps. Having only been six or seven at the time, he quickly teleported elsewhere, very much intimidated by the daft, dark cellar. There were many mysterious finds throughout the grand house they lived in. His abilities allowed him access to many of them. A young Five had quickly learned to question none of them, at the risk of upsetting his father with his sneaking around.

His attention was diverted as the clanging and clamour of the elevator's pulley system echoed down the shaft. A minute later, Klaus and Diego exited the cart, looking around in disdain as they walked down the suspicious hall and towards the vault. Visibly shaken and struggling several paces behind them was Vanya. Her arms were wrapped around her torso tightly.

"Damn, this place is just as disgusting in the past as it was in the future," Diego commented, eyes grazing along the grimy stone walls.

"Yeeaah," Klaus muttered deeply. "I'm guessing Mom doesn't make it down here to clean very often." He stretched the fuzzy purple bathrobe he was wearing snugly against himself, blanketing his body from the damp, chilly air.

"Steal that from Allison?" Five commented with an amused smirk. He couldn't help but notice that Klaus had been dressing more...well, normally, since their return.

"Oh God yes, my teenage closet is depressingly mundane," his brother retorted. He flipped a hand up into the air, dramatizing his response with a splash of despair. "Past Klaus was still living in a repressive household, I suppose." The lanky teen tied the belt tightly around his waist, as if to insist that he was keeping the garment. "It looks better on me anyways."

Five shrugged, losing interest in the conversation quickly. "Right…" More important things to do. He turned to Vanya. She looked pale and pitiful, wedged between Klaus and Diego with her shoulders hunched. "Where's your violin?"

"My violin?" she asked in surprise. "Five, I can't play that thing again. I'll practice control without it."

"You had the most control _with _it," Five argued, pointing out what seemed obvious to him.

"Did you forget the part where she almost killed us all with that thing?" Diego added bitterly, turning to his sister immediately after, hands raised up in defense of his words. "No offense, Vanya. Just the facts."

Vanya frowned at him, but didn't disagree. "No, Diego's right. It isn't safe for me to play anymore." Her eyes pleaded sternly with Five, begging him to drop it. So he did, for the time being.

"Let's get started then," he sighed. He turned to the vault door, putting a hand on each side of the wheel and twisting hard with a grunt. With a bit of force, it gave, twisting with the awful squeal of metal grinding against metal. The heavy door swung forward, revealing the small, heavily enforced containment room to the onlooking group. "After you," Five held out an arm, inviting them in. Klaus waltzed past without hesitation, while Diego entered slowly after him, suspiciously eyeing the jagged walls. Vanya stood frozen, eyes wide and terrified. Part of Five's mind urged him to say something, or grab her hand and walk her in. To do anything to make her know she had his support, like so many years ago. But he didn't. He couldn't. The sympathy he knew he should feel was just out of reach, an incredibly faint, dwindling glow in the dark of his mind.

"Vanya," he urged her on, attempting to sound more patient than he felt. She startled, despite standing right next to him. "Right," she confirmed with false confidence, gathering herself up and stepping into her own little personal prison from the past.

"I'm going to shut the door, then blink inside, alright?" he assured her, forcing himself to speak gently. Vanya shook her head up and down in confirmation, breathing deeply. The door creaked shut, and the bolts slid back into their locked position as Five twisted the wheel again. Vanya kept her eyes trained on him through the window until he stepped through space to appear inside the soundproof room.

Time to get started.

* * *

Thirty minutes later they had accomplished nothing. Vanya didn't seem to be able to access her powers on a whim. Five was getting frustrated with their lack of progress, as was Diego. Klaus had given up on participating within the first five minutes, and was sprawled out on the floor off in the corner.

"This isn't working," Diego groaned loudly, chucking a knife at one of the empty bottles Vanya was suppose to be focusing her energies on. The glass shattered into pieces, littering the concrete floor surround where it had been. "We're missing something, somehow." The darker skinned boy paced along the wall impatiently.

"A string instrument, perhaps?" Five gave Vanya a pointed look. She stood her ground, not wanting to bend on the matter. Her violin was the single most terrifying thing in this house right now, and that was saying something seeing as Hargreeves was still alive during this timeline.

Klaus took the opportunity to stand and stretch, resembling a cat somehow in his lazy, dramatic motions. "What were you doing the first time you used your powers as an adult?" he asked curiously in the midst of a wide yawn.

The first time? The first time she had realized she used her powers was when she had gone to invite her family to the concert. "I had just gotten first chair," Vanya thought back. She had been with Leonard, but that part wasn't exactly a key point to the conversation. "I had come to the academy, and left furious with all of you. The light poles had bent that day on the street," she trailed off.

"Ok, so anger. Not the ideal medium," Five thought aloud. Diego's pacing was irritating him. "Any other times you managed to use your ability _without _the violin and _without _anger being the sole source of fuel?"

Vanya sighed and closed her eyes, forcing herself to think through her last few days in 2019. The street lamps, the men that had drunkenly attacked them, Allison's betrayal - every single time she had used her powers, it had been out of fear and anger. Every time except one. Her stomach twisted uncomfortably as she recalled the memory of their time in the woods with Leonard, making her nauseous. "There was one other time. It was when I was out at the cabin with- well, you know," she stuttered over the last part. "He had read Dad's notes. I had to focus on one sound, and tune everything else out. Then I could feel it building inside. And then there was another time right after, when we kis-" she stopped suddenly, remembering her audience. A blush spread across her face as she regretfully glanced up at the boys. Klaus had a ridiculous grin spread widely across his face. Diego looked like he was going to puke at the thought - how nice. Five, however, looked tense.

Five chewed on the inside of his cheek and clenched his hands into fists. He willed his body to relax. It was none of his business what Vanya had done with her life as an adult. If he had been around, maybe he could have justified playing the protective part when she found boyfriends. But he hadn't been there, and she had grown up without him, and it was far too late for that. He buried the feelings, like he was so very used to doing, and refocused on the task at hand.

"Well if you need a smooch to get your powers all primed up," Klaus started, wrapping an arm around Five, apparently intent on throwing him under the bus. He just wasn't going to let things go, was he? Five jabbed his elbow back into Klaus's ribs, causing a struggled grunt to emit from the taller sibling. Diego looked on, confused, but Five spoke again before any questions could be asked.

"I'm getting your violin," he insisted.

"I don't want it."

Five shook his head incredulously, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "You need something to channel your energy through, to focus on. We've all seen you use it with amazing success."

"I almost _killed all of you _the last time I used it!" She shouted at him, finally letting her emotions through the vail. The three boys exchanged glances as the remaining bottles nearby started rattling. Diego reached for a knife out of reflex, earning him a harsh glare from his two brothers. The shaking stopped abruptly once Vanya realized what she was doing and turned fearful again. Klaus put a hesitant hand on her shoulder, reassuring his sister with a smile.

"Because you were angry with us. The violin isn't the problem," Five insisted, trying his best to not sound harsh and judgmental. "But it will allow you access to your abilities, and hopefully some control, when emotion fails you." Vanya sighed, defeated. Five knew it would take more convincing. "Not to mention you love playing, Vanya. Can you really imagine a life where you never play another piece?"

"I think that's enough," Klaus said with an uncharacteristic air of authority. "Neither of you get it. Your powers don't force themselves on you, and fuck up your life when you can't figure them out." His hand was still resting on Vanya's shoulder protectively. She smiled up at Number Four, relief clear on her face at not being quite so alone with her struggle. Of course Klaus could relate. He had been trained by Hargreeves his entire life, and still not managed to cope with his gifts at the age of thirty. Five stared at the exchange bitterly and jumped to the other side of the vault door. It wedged open a moment later, revealing Five standing in the doorway, fuming.

"Session's over," he spat out, and disappeared again, entirely out of patience for the night. He reappeared in his bedroom and fell backwards onto his mattress, sinking into the sheets. Five tried to take a moment to appreciate the simple comfort of having a warm bed to return to, but found himself staring instead at the writing on his walls. Usually he would throw himself into work when he felt this anxious, but there was nothing he was willing to work on right now - he hadn't quite mastered time travel, but wasn't anxious to try it again anytime soon just for kicks. The success rate wasn't exactly glowing. Besides, the silence hanging over the massive academy was too deafening to focus right now.

He pulled out the book he kept tucked away, looking at the tattered cover that displayed Vanya as she was now, a young teen with a violin gracefully resting in her arms. The book was quickly discarded to his nightstand - he didn't want to read it again tonight. With nothing better to focus his energies on, he decided to simply get some sleep. Tomorrow, he would be joining his siblings for training for the first time in decades, and Reginald was sure to make it difficult for him. The boy idly reached down to his abdomen, where the stitches had just started to dissolve from his wound at The Commission Headquarters. It felt like a lifetime ago. Not something he wanted to recall in detail. Getting up without another spare thought towards his adventures through time, he quickly locked his door, changed into pajamas, and returned to his bed.

It was still too quiet, but restless sleep found him eventually.

* * *

The next morning, the familiar ringing of a bell drifted down the hall. It was seven in the morning, and Grace was prompt as she had always been, alerting the children to wake up and start their day. Breakfast would be served in a few minutes.

Five groaned and rolled out of bed, not feeling very rested even after a full night's sleep. Footsteps thudded outside his door. Probably Luther, always so prompt and obedient. Rolling his eyes at the thought of such mindless following, Five dressed himself hastily. He grabbed a comb from his dresser and teleported to the door of one of the bathrooms in their living quarters, walking in to make sure he was somewhat presentable. The boy normally wasn't one to preen, but their father had always expected them to look civilized at mealtimes.

His breath caught in his throat as he met his own reflection for the first time in ages. Healthy hair and skin. No notable scars or burns. A thin, but toned frame. He reached a hand up to his cheek, as if to confirm that the person in the mirror was indeed his own reflection. The boy in the mirror copied his move, of course. The only familiar feature were his eyes - icy blue as they always had been, and so very tired from a long life of struggles. This wasn't his body. The body that had spent years and years being filthy as he worked his way through burning rubble and ash of a fallen city. The body that had survived on cockroaches and expired canned food. There were no callouses on his hands from hard labor. There were no battle scars from his many timeline correction missions with The Commission. It was truly as if he had never aged - for the most part. There were some things that even an age-regressed body couldn't fix. His physical body may be whole again, but he knew that inside, he was anything but.

Shaking off the feeling of despair that had begun to creep up his spine, Five wet his unruly hair and ran the comb through it neatly. With that done, he ported down to the dining room, not giving his reflection another glance. It was too unsettling.

He appeared behind his assigned chair at the table, standing and waiting as expected of them all. Several of his siblings glanced over at the sound of him popping in, but Five paid them no attention. It was strange to be back again, all in the same room. There was an overbearing sense of nostalgia, suffocating him with its mere existence. How was one suppose to successfully navigate their teenage years in a ridiculously dysfunctional family for the second time? There wasn't exactly a guide book on the subject.

Hargreeves entered the room suddenly, his long strides echoing across the tile. All seven teens stood up straight and turned towards the head of the table, where their father stood regally. "Sit," he commanded, and so they did. Chairs scooted against the floor, feeling extraordinarily loud in the expansive silence. Grace set plates of sliced fruit and bowls of oatmeal before them with practiced speed.

Five reached for a spoon and stopped short as he found a deep gouge on the surface of the table, breaking up the swirls and curves in the grain of the dark, polished wood. He ran a finger along the mark, recalling the day he had defiantly dug his knife into its surface. It had been a literal lifetime ago. Five had just been a boy, intent on being right. He had ignored his father's warnings. He had ignored Vanya's silent pleads to drop it and sit back down with them. He had ignored them all when he ran out the door, feeling cocky and confident as he jumped forward for the first time, appearing in an unknown year in the middle of summer, not even considering the fact that his calculations to reverse the process could be off. He should have stopped then, but he didn't, too proud of himself. The scene had played in a loop in his mind so many times through the years, endlessly reminding him how stupid he had been, and how much he had sacrificed.

Someone gently nudged his foot under the table. His gaze darted up to meet Vanya's warm brown eyes. She smiled gently, knowingly. The observant girl must have noticed his reaction to the scar on the table. She didn't pull her foot away, and Five was hesitant to admit to himself that the gentle pressure was a relief, keeping him grounded to reality for a moment. His frustrations with her during last night's failed training melted away with the tiny act of silent understanding. The dark haired teen turned back to his meal, unable to keep his cheeks from feeling warm from the exchange. If Vanya noticed, she gave no indication that she had.

After what felt like hours, the painfully quiet meal came to a close as their father stood. Normally, Hargreeves would dismiss them for individual studies at this time. They would go with Grace to the Academy's vast library, spread out among the tables and plush leather chairs, and work at their own pace on whatever handful of subjects their father had scheduled for them on that particular day. Grace would pop in and out, tutoring and assisting when necessary, but overall letting them work in peace until lunch time. Today was different, apparently.

"Number Two, Number Five," he addressed Five and Diego. "You are to come with me for a specialized training session. Vanya, you will record progress this morning. The rest of you are dismissed to train on your own this morning. We'll continue with studies in the afternoon." The group of kids looked around wearily, clearly caught off guard by the change in routine. Hesitantly though, the team stood and walked together through the expansive house, down two flights of stairs, to the gym Hargreeves had specially designed for the sole purpose of training his gifted group of adoptive children. It was quite a large room, with several little areas divided up in the ample space. There was everything from weights to treadmills to rope ladders. There was an entire rock climbing set up dominating one wall. A weaponry display was full of everything from archery tools, knives, daggers, and spears; well-used targets were bolted to the walls nearby, some of them more ripped and tattered than others, highly thanks to Diego. Concrete walls were covered with large sections of cushioned padding, a necessity when any of them trained with Luther or Ben, who could easily throw any of the rest of the team through a wall with a simple sparring session.

Hargreeves dismissed the rest of the team with an impatient wave of his hand. Luther, Allison, Klaus, and Ben wandered off together to the fitness area. They made themselves busy, but kept a curious eye on their missing companions. Vanya had gathered up the clipboard and notepad she used when assisting her father in observations, and stood by quietly, awaiting any further instructions.

"Number Two, fetch the set of throwing knives. _Not _the rubber knives, please." Diego's brows bent together, but he did as he was told. "Number Five," the old man continued. "You will be working on your spatial jump precision and stamina this morning with the assistance of Number Two."

Five starred at the man for a moment, mouth agape. "You're going to have Diego _throw actual knives _at me?" It wasn't unusual for them to practice with real knives and wall targets when they were young kids. Or even for Diego to train with the rubber knives and target his siblings. But their father had never encouraged them to use _real _knives on each other. Diego's precision was damn near flawless, even at this age. Training with The Kraken was not something to take lightly.

Hargreeves loomed over the shorter boy, testing him, challenging him to say more or to argue. "_Number_ _Two _will be assisting you, yes," he took the opportunity to correct. "You seem to think you are beyond training something as trivial as your spatial jumping, and have apparently grown bored with the usual expectations. If that's the case, then this should present no challenge for you, hm?"

Diego returned with a case of neatly aligned blades, looking nervously at his slightly smaller sibling. He didn't want to do this, either. "I really don't think I should-"

"It's fine, Number Two," Five hissed, not taking his cold stare away from Reginald. "Let's just get it over with." Their father nodded with a frown, and indicated for a pale looking Vanya to follow him a short distance away from the two boys, instructing her to write down the number of throws and jumps the boys displayed. She snuck a glance back towards the boys as they walked, concern clear on her face.

"Be sure to aim away from vital organs, Number Two," the man called out casually as he walked away from them. The four remaining team members watching from across the room had stopped their antics to look like they were busy, their full attention on Five and Diego in anxious anticipation.

"Five, this is stupid," Diego whispered once their father was out of ear shot. "I don't really want to see you sliced to ribbons."

"I can handle myself just fine. I'm quite a bit faster than your knives, if you hadn't noticed," Five retorted, cocky. "Now throw." Diego shook his head at Five's pompous attitude, and prepared his first throw. He let loose the knife with a flick of his wrist, and it shot forward towards his brother. Five easily teleported out of the way, letting the blade sink into the cushioned wall behind him, right where his shoulder had been. It sliced easy through the stuffing with a '_thunk'_. Five smirked confidently, making sure to spare a moment to meet eyes with his father across the room.

"Continue," Hargreeves ordered irritably at the momentary lapse. Diego complied regretfully, adjusting his next throw to Five's location, and Five once again jumped away with a bend of light. Becoming a little more confident, the two continued the process of throwing and dodging, picking up the pace as they went. After some time, Five could feel himself wearing down - his powers had a limit. He dodged naturally when he could, knowing he would soon be at a huge disadvantage. Sweat dripped from his hair, and his muscles ached.

Another blade spun towards him. Five moved to teleport, but his energy fizzled out at the last second, keeping him firmly rooted where he stood. "Shit," he cursed, dodging left ungracefully as the weapon spun past him, catching his right arm ever so slightly. His shirt sleeve ripped open, and his skin stung from the contact. It was a hairline cut, but a cut nonetheless. The blade thumped firmly into the wall behind him. Diego frowned and turned to look at their father, angry eyes pleading for them to be done with this exercise. Hargreeves said nothing, impatiently waiting for them to continue.

"Dad!" Vanya hissed from her spot next to the man. "You've made your point. He's going to get hurt."

"Silence, Number Seven," he snapped at the girl. She glared up at him, but continued to go unnoticed. The rest of the team had gathered nearby, biting their tongues. Nothing they said would convince Hargreeves from snubbing out the fire he'd seen in Five's disobedience.

Diego gripped the next dagger tightly, his knuckles turning white. "Five, you're out of juice. I don't care if he's pissed at you, I'm not going to-"

"_Shut up,_ Diego, and throw the _damn _knife." Five's eyes weren't on Diego, though. They were locked across the room, burning an imaginary hole through his father's haughty expression. He knew he should be at least attempting to stick with the plan, to convince Hargreeves that he could shut his mouth and do what he had been told, but he just couldn't find it in himself to keep up the act in the midst of such an intense punishment. His blue eyes snapped back into action as he heard Diego's next throw zip through the air. Five gave it everything he had. His portal crackled around him as he managed to jump a few feet away, but not far enough.

The knife curved sharply, as Diego's skill allowed it to, and found it's mark in the side of Five's leg. It sunk to the hilt just above the knee, into the exposed flesh below his uniform shorts. The boy tensed and inhaled sharply, keeping his teeth firmly pressed together to keep from crying out. He started to stumble, but caught his balance again, shifting his weight painfully to his uninjured right leg. He'd had far worse injuries, he reminded himself. Breathing heavy, Five looked up again to glare at Reginald, daring him to continue the training. He ripped the blade from his leg without breaking eye contact with the old man.

"_Shit,_ Five," Diego winced, "I'm sorry."

"Number Two, you weren't told to stop." Hargreeves wasn't satisfied with Five's continued attitude. Five smirked darkly across the room, angering the man further.

Vanya looked desperately to her siblings, begging them to do something. This was insane. _"Dad!"_ Luther piped up finally, anger apparent behind his normally respectful demeanor. Hargreeves simply held up a hand, dismissing him.

"Number Two!"

Diego swallowed hard, looking to Five. "We need to stop, consequences be damned," he insisted.

Five shook his head, disagreeing with a scoff. "He's not going to let it go, Diego. If it's not today, it'll be tomorrow. If it's not you, it'll be one of the others." He shrugged, dismissing it all so casually, but the exhaustion was clear on his face. "I've survived worse than you could imagine. Better your knives than him sicking Ben's powers after me."

Diego cursed, hating his father for forcing them into this. "Stay on your toes then. I'd prefer to not have a pincushion for a brother. If I hit you again, I'm done, whether you like it or not." He regretfully tossed the next knife, praying Five had enough energy left to manage another jump. The thin weapon cut through the air with a whistle, intent on finding it's target, almost as if Diego's ability gave it a mind of its own. Five tensed up, well aware of the fact that he didn't have it in him to jump or tumble away. He would not show weakness to that bastard of a father, though, and stood his ground.

The blade stopped in it's tracks, suspended in the air, quivering ever so slightly. Five looked to Diego for an explanation, but his brother looked just as shocked. Turning to the rest of the team, he immediately realized what had happened. There stood Vanya, strikingly white irises, one hand held out towards the dagger. _She _had stopped it. The girl in question looked at the dagger in awe, as if questioning if it had really been her doing. Five smiled momentarily at her success, then realized with absolute horror that their father was staring at Vanya in shock with the rest of them. "Well that's not good," he observed aloud to Diego, nodding towards Hargreeves. The man was livid, but with a definite hint of surprise and fear.

"Number Seven, what is the meaning of this?" The dagger dropped to the floor with a clatter as her attention was diverted. Vanya's white eyes turned to Reginald, looking murderous. She was losing control - not that Five could blame her with the years of remorse she had stewed for their father. This wasn't supposed to happen, though. Keeping Vanya's power hidden from Reginald was essential to keeping the timeline as close to normal as they could. Small changes could be bad, but large differences had the potential to change the future immensely. Changing things too much, and too suddenly, would alert the Commission immediately. Five had no doubts about that. Certainly an early death of one Reginald Hargreeves wouldn't escape unnoticed.

"Allison!" Five called out. He desperately gestured to their adoptive father with one hand, a the knife covered in his own blood still held in the other. "Do something!" Allison's eyes widened fearfully, hesitant to use her powers, but she snapped into action and turned to Hargreeves before the man could argue.

_" I heard a rumor that you didn't see Vanya use her powers today, and that we were done with training, _" Allison whispered in his ear. The man's eyes glazed over, then slowly faded to normal as he looked around, bewildered for a moment.

"That's enough for today," he said at last, stumbling out the room, appearing a bit lost from the suggestive effects of Allison's will-bending abilities. Klaus and Luther had already taken initiative and pulled Vanya off to the side, bringing her back to reality. Five and Diego exchanged a drained look and sighed, both boys still out of breath from the intense training.

Five dropped the knife in his hand at last, the metal clinking against the concrete, and let himself slide down to the ground with a hiss. Blood was still running down his leg, soaking through his socks. He peeled the hem of his shorts up a little to inspect the large gouge in the side of his leg. It wasn't pretty, and was bleeding quite a bit, but not enough to be concerned about any major arteries having been nicked open. Probably no stitches this time, he decided, thankful for that. Ripping his ruined jacket off, he continued the tear that Diego's dagger had made earlier. He wrapped the strip around his leg several times, binding it tightly to apply pressure and ease the bleeding.

Luther hovered, reaching out a hand to help him up. Five pushed the appendage away with a roll of his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous," he grumbled, face scrunching in pain and he found his feet again on his own. He shuffled a few steps towards the group, limping heavily, but intent on keeping the dignity he felt he had earned today. "Impressive throws by the way, Diego," Five complimented dryly, but truthfully. "Nice to see your skill hasn't degraded along with our ages."

Vanya shook her head at him in disbelief, her long hair swaying with the movement. "Five you're still bleeding. Let's go find Mom."

"I'd rather lose the leg than go back to the medical wing." His hands went to his pockets, dismissing the issue nonchalantly. "You used your powers," he stated, a corner of his lip turned upwards ever so slightly.

"I did," she beamed, followed by a deep frown. "Almost too much."

"Just enough, I'd say," Klaus chimed. "It's not as if this is his first offense. He used to lock me in a damn mausoleum, forced Allison to rumor Vanya's powers away, eventually mutates Luther into a frickin' Gorilla-man, and _kills Ben _in the future, are we forgetting? The sadistic prick had it coming." No one disagreed, the bitter truth of their upbringing laid out harshly before them in one quick breath.

A bell rang through the silence, lurching the troubled group out of their dark thoughts. "Time for lunch!" Grace called cheerily down the stairs, requesting them to join in what would no doubt be another unbearably monotonous meal. They obliged, all of them looking forward to an afternoon of quiet studies for perhaps the first time since they'd returned.

* * *

**Sorry it took a few days! My kiddos birthday and party we're this week. Busy busy busy. I made it an extra long chapter! Unfortunately the fluff didn't make it very far into this chapter. I just can't bring myself to rush it. It's not quite fitting for Five yet, poor angry kid. Soon!**

**I feel like a complete jerk making Hargreeves so terrible, but...I mean c'mon, he WAS terrible. I had a sliver of sympathy for him in episode 10, but he still sucks. So sorry not (very) sorry? He'd pitted them against each other in the past, with Allison and Vanya. So I hope its not too unbelievable in my writing. If it is...well, too bad. xD**

**Leave me some comments! I'll be reading back through for typos and errors, so sorry if you caught the 2nd draft instead of the 3rd, but I wanted to post it asap for you all!**

**Love,**

**Storm!**


	7. Stay With Me

**Just a note that I'll remove later on - I've stupidly been writing Five with blue eyes. Idk, I thought that's what the actor had I guess? So I changed it to green this chapter, as it should be. I'll work on editing that into the previous chapters. I'm sure none of you care, but it bothered me immensely. xD**

**Enjooooyyy!**

...

**Chapter Seven: Stay With Me**

* * *

Next to his own bedroom with it's quiet isolation, the library was definitely Five's next favorite room in the massive home. The parlor had been in the running too, considering that's where the bar was, but at the end of the day he had a stronger thirst for knowledge than for alcohol.

Most days, anyways. Today he could really use a drink. Later, perhaps.

The boy shuffled his way across the currently empty room, masking his limp to the best of his ability. Diego's blade hadn't done him any favors in the rehabilitation of this smaller, weaker body. He had cleaned up and changed into a new uniform after their 'training' this morning, rejecting any more offers for assistance in binding up the deep cut. He had been taking care of his own injuries for most of his life, and _Hargreeves _of all people was most definitely was not responsible for the worst of them. It hurt now, but he would live.

Finding a sofa in a purposefully more secluded corner of the expansive room, he sat down stiffly with the work he had been given, shuffling through the lesson instructions and assignment once he was situated. Balancing chemical equations. Something that should be new for him as a thirteen year old, he supposed. But when you're stuck living a lifetime alone, you have plenty of time to read up on all the years of schooling you missed by jumping forward through time. It wouldn't be a challenge at all, which was slightly disappointing, but at least it was something to do to distract him from the continuously dull ache in his leg.

Diving into the monotonous work, he easily tuned out the others as they entered the room and found a table together. How completely predictable. Creatures of habit - time didn't change some things. He thought back to the many mornings that they would gather here during his _real _childhood. One, Two, Three, and Six would sit together. Four would join them for the sole purpose of copying their work, but they would eventually kick him out of the group once they tired of his impish behavior and lack of focus. Seven, if she joined them at all, would either sit near Five himself without a word, or by herself. He wondered if she would sit with the main group now that they knew the truth, now that things were different, now that she wasn't quite so ordinary. He ignored the twinge of disappointment at the thought.

As if reading his mind, another form plopped down next to him on the well worn cushion. Much to Five's displeasure, it was _not _the quiet, studious Vanya.

"What do you want, Klaus?" he asked without looking up, no patience evident in his voice whatsoever. He just wanted to get this done. Simple assignments were a welcomed distraction, but still just busy work at the end of the day, and he refused to let Klaus hinder him in completing it.

"Yikes, we can't just spend some quality time with our long lost brother?" he replied with far too much pep in his tone. The curly haired boy threw an arm around Five lovingly, causing the shorter boy to flinch at the contact.

"Do you enjoy having two arms?" Five threatened menacingly. Klaus didn't need any more convincing to remove the appendage.

"Lighten up, old man. You'd think after _all that time alone _you wouldn't mind a bit of company here and there," Klaus argued, lanky arms crossed like a pouting child. He was a pouting child, technically, Five realized, suppressing an ironic smile. Klaus's assignments lay scattered across the floor nearby, untouched. Not surprising.

Five realized suddenly that Ben was leaned against the back of the sofa. Of course he was. Klaus _had _said 'we' just a moment ago, and the two seemed to be inseparable since their return. Ben had clung to Klaus for years, apparently, holding onto the only part of his family that he could in the afterlife. Ben gave Five a warm, apologetic smile as they caught each other's gaze. "Sorry. I tried to tell him you wouldn't appreciate the intrusion." Ben knew him well. They used to be close, but it had been so long.

Five shook his head, turning back to his books. "You're not copying my work, Klaus."

"Psshh, as if I need to copy from _you _," he laughed, pulling his legs up and crossing them, not caring that he was taking up more than his half of the seat. Five inched farther onto his side of the couch. "I have my _good _brother Benny for that." Ben frowned at the assumption, but didn't make a move to argue. They all knew the drill. Klaus would screw around the entire afternoon, and Ben would, after much whining and pleading, let Klaus use his work.

"What do you want then?" Five repeated his original question with an exasperated groan, shoving his pencil in the heavy Chemistry book and slamming it shut in frustration. If he thought he had the energy to spare, he would just jump up to his room for some peace and quiet. This morning had taken a toll on him though. He was stuck with physical limitations for the time being.

Therefore, he was stuck with Klaus's insistent pestering for the time being.

Five took the time to actually do a once over on his most...unique, sibling. His dark tousled hair was a mess, his eyes were framed in dark bags. The teen had his fingers laced together while his feet tapped irritatingly against the floor. Klaus wasn't the best at hiding his emotions. It was clear that the boy was feeling overwhelmed. Five could relate to that. Ben caught Five's eye, a concerned exchange passing between the two boys.

Number Five finally bit the bait, knowing he should just get this conversation over with. "Your body shouldn't be fighting off addiction anymore, Klaus. You're literally in the physical form of your thirteen year old self. Unless you managed to sneak off and convince an extremely morally compromised idiot to sell drugs to a child, you shouldn't be dealing with withdrawal in your current body." He paused, not receiving much more than a snort. "So what is it?"

Klaus groaned, leaning back into the cushion with his hands covering his face. "What isn't it, Five? I know we like, 'saved the world' and all," he removed his hands to form air quotes, "but this _sucks _. The only decent part about my powers in the future was having Ben around," He jutted a finger towards the boy behind him. "But now...I mean what's the point? I'm stuck tuning out voices constantly. I'm _terrified _that Dad's going to decide its my turn for a _fun _day of training. Alone, back in that dark, dark…" he trailed off for a moment, getting lost in thoughts of the mausoleum, no doubt. "No drugs to make it stop, because not surprisingly, you're right, and it's hard to find drugs when you're puny and young." He stopped again, moving a hand towards his chest to clutch the metal tags hanging there. "I know this is the first time in years that we've all been here, together but...I just feel so...alone again."

Ben squeezed in between Klaus and the arm of the couch, putting a supportive arm around the damaged man. Five hadn't moved, but he didn't have to meet his brother's dark eyes to know the pain he would find there. His voice said it all. Klaus didn't have much common ground with Five, but one of the things they did share was the understanding of consequences for messing with the time continuum. Klaus's tight grip on Dave's dog tags were the proof that he had suffered much with his accidental trip to the past. Five let out a deep sigh, wishing Klaus could have gone to _anyone else _about this. He was terrible in these types of situations, even if it was warranted.

"I'm sorry, Klaus. I wish there was more I could say, or do." The words felt foreign on his tongue, but Five felt more than partially responsible for his brother's pain. "I know how you feel."

"Do you?" Klaus scoffed. "Because I don't think you do. You weren't even here when Ben died, or Dad for that matter. Have you ever lost someone you _loved _? Because I loved Dave, Five, and I lost it all."

Five stared at him in disbelief, not expecting the raw, bitter response from Klaus. He had attempted sympathy, attempted to connect, and that's what he received in return?

"Are you an idiot?" he asked finally, something snapping inside of him. "I lost _all of you _the day I left. I _buried you _Klaus, and the others. I spent weeks checking every burnt corpse, for any sign at all of Ben and Vanya, praying they had found shelter." Five shook his head, sneering at his brother for the accusation. "I was thirteen. _Really _thirteen. I've done nothing but try to find a way back to my family for three-quarters of my life, just to be dismissed as clinically insane by most of you. So in short, _yes, _I _do _know how you feel."

His face was hot, blood boiling just below the surface of his skin. It may not have been said gracefully, or in a touchy-feely moment, but it was the most that he had opened up since he'd escaped from The Commission. And to _Klaus _of all people. He felt vulnerable. Weak. But relieved somehow. His furious green eyes were glued to the floor, refusing to meet the faces of either of his brothers after his outburst.

Two pairs of arms wrapped around him without warning. Ben had moved to the other side of him, effectively sandwiching him between his two overly emotional siblings. Five squirmed under the treatment, opening his mouth to make another empty threat. "You both need to-"

"Nope," Ben interrupted.

"Shhhh," Klaus smiled widely, patting Five's dark locks affectionately. The sadness in his voice had left, and was replaced with apologetic amusement. "It's too late, dear little Five. Your secret is out, and there's no taking it back. You _do _love us."

"I didn't say that," he argued, but had stopped trying to wiggle his way out of the embrace.

The other two siblings exchanged a glance. "You didn't have to."

Five dropped his head back into the sofa and groaned, unwillingly accepting the childish treatment from the two morons. He needed to remember to never actually admit to giving a shit in front of them again, to keep things unspoken. If _this _was how they acted when he sputtered angry, nonsense words of concern for them...he couldn't bare the thought of how they'd react to a full on, sentimental, family moment.

"Hey Five," Klaus started again, his cheek shoved uncomfortably against Five's neck. "I know you're from the future, therefor all-knowing and whatnot. But can we offer you just a smidge of advice?"

"It doesn't appear that I have much choice in that right now," Five responded with a tight smile, looking anything but friendly.

"Take it easy on Vanya," Ben took over, finally releasing Five from the uncomfortable grasp of his arms. Klaus followed suit after a not so gentle jab from Five's elbow.

"Seriously?" Five's expression leveled out in disbelief, eyebrows raising. "You realize her assuming control over her powers is the only thing that will prevent the apocalypse. And that it's the sole reason we're all stuck in these bodies, hell, in this _damn house _again, right?"

"Yeah yeah," Klaus responded, waving his hands flippantly, unconcerned suddenly. "That's all fine and dandy, but that's _a lot _of pressure to put on someone who _just _found out she has the potential to destroy the entire freakin' planet, y'know?"

Five ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "That doesn't change any of the facts. That's just too bad," he concluded. "We all have responsibilities to prevent a horrendous outcome in seventeen years. If that means _pushing _her to _help _her, then-"

"That's the other thing," Been interjected. "It doesn't do her any good if you're going to train her the same way we were all trained. Look how we all turned out after Dad's...methods."

Five turned accusingly back and forth between his brothers. "Are you actually suggesting that I'm acting like _Dad?" _he spat out, resisting the urge to grind his teeth. His brothers didn't respond at first, confirming his suspicions. Five crossed his arms, surely looking as childish as Klaus had earlier in their conversation.

"You just... obsess a teeny bit, about keeping some sense of control over this mess," Ben finally muttered. "Vanya isn't some equation that you can solve if you crunch the numbers," he spoke in Five's language. "She's a person. If you push her, and think that you can control how all of this goes, you're going to be disappointed. And so will she. She cares about you, Five. She always has. You pushing her to succeed may just push her away. Look how much we all resent Dad. He was just trying to save the world, too, ya know."

As much as it irritated him, they had a point. Not that he would admit that out loud. Their father spent years training them, keeping them at a distance, keeping them secluded. They were just pawns in the big picture of someday saving the world to him. Not individuals. Not children. A walking solution to someone else's problem.

Vanya had always supported him. Maybe he _had _been harsh on her last night during training, insisting she overcome her fears all in one night, insisting she put aside all of the trauma from the last couple of weeks. She wasn't _him, _with his unmatched ability to detach himself from any given situation without a second thought. She wasn't able to think of the world as numbers and problems to solve, no. Her world was full of melodies that could lift you up in joy, just to drag you back down, a rollercoaster of harmony and rhythm that translated into sentiment and emotion.

It was possible that he and his adoptive father had more in common than he had originally believed. It was a sickening realization.

"You know she waited for you longer than any of us," Klaus mentioned, his voice full of remorse. "I mean Dad was pissed at first, and then just accepted that you must be dead, and moved on."

"We were just numbers to him," Five mumbled back in agreement, keeping his head down in contemplation.

"The rest of us were jealous at first. You got out. You _escaped. _But when you didn't come back after a week, and then a month...we all started to wonder," Ben continued solemnly.

Klaus laughed a little, a harsh, bitter chuckle. "I tried to conjure you, at one point. Vanya asked me to, to prove that you weren't dead. When I couldn't find you, that just convinced her that you were alive, somewhere, and that you would come back."

God, he had wanted to come back.

Five's chest was heavy and ached painfully. He remembered those early months, when he had a ridiculous hope that he'd figure out a way back, or that his family would somehow find him, as if that were even a possibility. As if Hargreeves would have given it a second thought to try to find him. He felt his eyes start to sting - he wasn't one to shed many tears, even as a child. But the first few months in the apocalypse had broken down that wall for him right away. There was no one around to see, no terrible father figure to shame him for his weaknesses, no teammates to impress. He openly cried like the child he was when he realized he was stuck. He cried when he found the academy in ruins. He cried when he found four of his siblings, but not Vanya and Ben. He cried when he read Vanya's biography and realized that not only had he missed Ben's death, but that he would never return home - the proof was in her words, history of his absence written plainly across the pages of her book.

"She waited up for you _every night _for years. She left you those disgusting sandwiches," Ben laughed sadly. "She was more than patient when you left, Five, for much longer than any of us. Just...keep that in mind, and offer her a little bit of patience back. That's all."

Five's eyes burned now. He couldn't sit here any longer and listen to this.

Grimacing a bit from the still tender wound, he forced himself away from the couch and his siblings. Ben and Klaus were saying something, but the pounding in his chest made it impossible to hear them clearly. Waving an impatient arm at them, he very clearly indicated his need for some space right now.

He needed to get out of here.

He could feel the panic settling in, clawing at his insides, making him feel clammy and weak.

Mustering up whatever strength he had managed to store up, he tried to pull at the familiar tendrils of energy. He came up short, still too depleted from earlier. Growling under his breath, he sharply whipped around a corner, sliding into an isle of tall bookshelves, out of sight.

Breathe. In and out. In and out. Again and again.

There was no fire.

The building was still standing.

He could hear the light whispers of conversation from his siblings across the room, because it was 2002, and none of them were dead yet.

Finally, he trusted his mind enough to open his eyes again. Still in the library. Still surrounded by the familiar smell of old books, and the comforting sound of his family. He sighed, relieved, wiping sweat off his brow from the near episode. Would it ever stop? Every time he was sure that he had a good hold on things, memories of the apocalypse ripped his feet out from under him, causing him to question ever tie to reality.

He leaned against the shelf in debate with what to do now. Five wasn't prepared to face Ben and Klaus again after that abrupt, shameful lack of control. He also wasn't up to seeing Vanya, unsure he could hold it together with her right now. Making a decision to ditch study time, he made his way along the outskirts of the shelves, needing escape from this room full of guilt.

Chemistry would have to wait.

Right now he needed a drink.

* * *

A painfully slow walk upstairs later, he was ransacking Klaus's room.

The irony of digging through his drug-addicted brother's belongings to steal some booze was not lost on him. Seeing as he was suppose to be in the library with the rest of the team, and as it was the middle of the day, he couldn't exactly waltz into the parlor and grab a bottle of liquor. The ability to blink down and back up again was still out of grasp. The risk of Pogo or Grace catching him was too great, and he dared not push his luck around Hargreeves again.

Flinging open a drawer, the sound of metal clinking and liquid sloshing around alerted him to his prize. Digging past stacks of comic books and presumably Allison's stolen feather boa, he produced a small metal flask. He twisted the cap off and sniffed once to identify the contents. Rum. Not his first choice - too sweet - but it would do well enough to calm his nerves.

He limped back down the hall to his room and opened the door softly, taking in the sight of his bedroom with an odd sense of homesickness. This was his home, but he still felt such a longing for all the years he had missed. Nothing could fix that, not even time travel. It was just another weight to carry on his shoulders, now. Taking a swig from the flask and making his way to his bed, he idly wondered if Klaus had been on to something with the drugs. Numb sounded nice sometimes.

Heavy, familiar footsteps echoed up the stairs and down the hall, signalling that his siblings had finished their work for the afternoon. It must have been later in the afternoon than he realized. How long had he spent calming himself down in the library? A sharp knock on his door prompted him to mutter a dejected, "Busy" and leave it at that. The door swung open anyways, much to Five's aggravation.

"Hey, you uh...left your stuff downstairs." Luther stood hesitantly outside the door, Five's discarded lessons held out in front of him. The stockier teen studied Five with a concerned stare as he shrugged once, took another sip of rum, then slouched back against his headboard, not making any effort to sit up and participate in the conversation. Five could only assume that Klaus and Ben had sent him up, or that Luther wanted to play team leader and make sure that Five did his work.

"Seriously, you're skipping your work and getting drunk before dinner?" Luther continued in disbelief, judgement loud and clear. "Haven't you pissed off Dad enough for one week?" He gestured to Five's bandaged up leg.

"Probably, but who am I to deprive the man of an opportunity to show more A-plus parenting with his strong-willed, disappointment of a child," he laughed crudely, his dark sense of humor visibly disturbing Luther. He started to lift the flask again, but Luther had crossed the room in a few strides, snatching it out of his free hand. Five glared hatefully in response.

"Give it back," Five demanded, holding out an open hand. He'd only had a few drinks from the flask. It's not as if he were drunk. He somehow doubted rum would do the trick, anyways.

"Nope," Luther smiled cheekily. "Try this instead." The stack of chemistry work was dropped next to him onto his bed, bouncing against the mattress as it landed. Luther started to make his way out, but stopped in the doorway, hesitating. "We all talked, and agreed to cancel training tonight with Vanya. She made progress today already, and you really should just rest tonight," he finally managed to say, swallowing hard and waiting for Five's snarky protests. They never came.

"Fine." He didn't feel like arguing. It wasn't like him to accept demands and decisions from his siblings, especially Number One, but being left alone for more than thirty fucking minutes sounded great, so he let Luther have his grand leadership moment. "I'll see you at dinner." Five's defeated demeanor didn't go unnoticed by Luther.

"Five, if you need to talk-"

"I don't," he replied without missing a beat. He pulled the books into his lap, intent on ignoring his brother's pursuits.

"-then I'm always here to-"

"I said _no, _Luther. I don't need to talk. I don't need help. I don't need company," he hissed. "What I need is for you to get the _hell _out of my room." Luther sighed with a look of pity. Five stubbornly turned away from him and back down to his work. He hated that look, the look they all gave him when he insisted on some distance from the group. Pity. He didn't need anyone's damn pity. A few long moments later, Luther finally gave in and stepped outside, pulling the door shut much to Five's relief.

With his drink now gone, and nothing else to do, he moved to his desk and returned to the unfinished chemistry lesson, working slowly through the problems. The work was simple, but provided a comforting distraction. Equations didn't argue, and throw their feelings and emotions at him. They were predictable. He worked until minutes turned to hours, reading the next several chapters ahead just for the sake of not letting his mind sit on idle. He read and scribbled notes until the bell for dinner rang through the house, snapping him out of the fog of the unchallenging school work.

Dinner time. Meals were horrid in this house, he was beginning to remember with a certain clarity. As necessary as it was, he was _really _beginning to regret throwing them back into their teenage years. Five begrudgingly stood up from his desk chair and joined the others in the march downstairs, rejecting Klaus's attempt at friendly conversation on the way down, and Ben's offer to assist him down the flight of stairs. He especially avoided catching Vanya's eyes.

Things were just easier alone.

* * *

To his pleasant surprise, a hot meal and a hot shower seemed to fix at least one of his problems. His energy seemed to be stable enough to use his powers again. With his shower finished and his ridiculous Umbrella Academy monogrammed pajamas on, he happily jumped into his bedroom from the bathroom, avoiding any conversations waiting to happen in the hallway. The group of age-confused adults were all preparing for bed, most of them enjoying the rare moment of unsupervised freedom that came with their evening routine. Freedom that they were all used to having as adults, to do whatever and go wherever. It was easy to fall back into the routine of the academy, like riding a bike after years and years, using muscle memory to fill in what the mind had forgotten. It was easy, but not exactly ideal.

Moving across the room, he stretched across the bed lazily. Maybe later he'd blink down to see if there was any wine in the liquor cabinet. It had been a while since he had a good Merlot. Or coffee. Coffee sounded good.

Before his mind went too far in planning mode, he found himself drifting off. He haphazardly pulled back his blanket and covered himself up. It had been another long day, and the weight of the thick comforter was welcomed. His eyes hurt from his lack of sleep, his head hurt from caffeine deprivation, his leg hurt from the dagger this morning, and his chest felt heavy with anxiety from the days conversations.

Maybe all he really needed was a good night's sleep.

It never came, of course.

Like most nights, he found myself slipping into fiery nightmares, memories of the apocalypse back to haunt him. His eyes burned from smoke and a seemingly unending stream of tears. The scrapes and bruises from climbing over mountains of fallen civilization. The smell of ash and decaying flesh. His fingernails nothing but bloody nubs from digging graves for the family he had abandoned. The Handler showing up all those years later, her silver hair and conniving smirk. Him finding a sense of delirious hope in her twisted offer of employment.

She had sweet talked him, tempting him with promises of a fulfilled life, all the while spinning a web of lies around him while he relished in the possibility of escaping an uninhabitable, ruined earth. All of the lives he had taken, faces flashing around him with their dead, hollow eyes. All the things he wouldn't allow to eat at his conscience during his hours awake, here to haunt him while he slept. A hand reached out from one of the ghastly figures, nails long and jagged, skin rotting away. It grabbed the fabric of his shirt, clenching it tightly and pulling him in, screaming unheard words at him, reaching for his face with its gruesome fingers.

Suddenly a cool hand brushed his cheek. For a moment he felt ill, chills creeping across his skin. _She _used to relish in his broken mind, his fear of touch and contact after being_so _alone for _so _long. The Handler. She had taken full advantage of his damaged psychological state, always standing too close, always reminding him that she could make his life incredibly grand, or return him to the devastating and bleak state she had found him in.

But no, this was different. There was no menace behind it, no alternative motive hidden. Just cool reassurance, whisking away visions of death and fire and silver hair.

Finally, he felt the tug of consciousness relieve him from the nightmares entirely. Blinking through his still watery green eyes, he struggled to make sense of his surroundings in the dark. His face felt damp from tears and sweat. His hands were full of bunched up comforter, desperately clinging to the cloth in his panicked state.

Leaning over him was Vanya. One hand was positioned on the other side of his waist, propping herself up against the mattress. The other still cupped his tear-stained cheek, thumb rubbing his skin gently, providing the cool comfort that had pulled him from the hellish dream. Her dark eyes were locked on his, full of fear and concern of the panic she must have found him in.

"Are you awake now?" She asked, barely a whisper. His voice was lost somewhere in his chest, which was still heaving up and down in short breaths, fueled by adrenaline. "Five?"

He cleared his throat in an effort to find a word to respond. "Yeah," he replied lamely, his voice hoarse. Had he been screaming?

She sat up straight, unceremoniously removing her fingers from his face at last. He silently wished that she hadn't. "I um...I heard you across the hall and you sounded bad," she lowered her hands to her lap, where her fingers played with the tips of her long hair, but her gaze was still locked on Five's distressed face. "Are you alright?"

Five almost laughed. Was _he _alright? Here they were, thrown across the time continuum by some miracle or sick joke, all because of her...and she was concerned about him having a bad night's sleep. Vanya had been excluded, disregarded, and deceived her entire life. He had left her alone, tossed her to the wolves, when he stupidly decided he was ready to time travel. Yet here she was, putting herself last again, dealing with his problems instead of her own. Would they have been close as adults, if he had stayed? Would she have felt appreciated enough to not turn to the first man who paid any attention to her, letting herself be blindly taken advantage of? He would never know. For all he knew, it was his absence that sparked the apocalypse.

"I'm fine," he managed at last, burying the guilt as he pushed himself upright in the bed with trembling arms. His head leaned back into the headboard with a soft thud, exhausted from the neverending torment his mind dealt him each night.

Judging by the lack of noise out his window, it was very late. The sounds of the city didn't usually die down until the wee hours of the morning. A sliver of the moon hung in the sky faithfully, another reassurance that at least for right now, everything was alright. Dim light pooled in through the glass, illuminating the troubled pair in a combined glow of faded yellow street lights and flashing neon.

"I guess I should go," Vanya stammered, moving to stand, taking his silence as the end in conversation. Five's stomach turned at her words, and at the thought of being alone right now. He was still coming down from the high of his nightmares, their realistic visions still hovering on the edge of his thoughts. His hand had reached out and grabbed her sleeve without a thought. She froze, observing him patiently, dark eyes waiting for an explanation.

"Please stay," he pleaded suddenly, voice shaking. His words and actions were not his own tonight. To think he was begging her to stay, like a child afraid of the dark. It would under normal circumstances have been an unthinkable embarrassment. But tonight, his chest felt heavy and constricted at the thought of her leaving him alone to deal with himself. Unsteady breathing filled the silence, his mind on the verge of another mental breakdown, unable to hold it all together. He had come so far, just to again wind up as a thirteen year old boy, terrified of being alone.

Vanya sat down quickly at his request, wrapping her arms around his neck without hesitation and pulling him close. Five surprised himself yet again by returning the embrace, arms wound around her thin frame. Silky hair brushed against his face, but he didn't mind it, the fruity smell of her shampoo wiping the recent smell of ash and rot from his memory. Tears he hadn't willingly let fall since he was last a teenager slid down his face, adding more salty tracks in their path. Vanya softly ran her fingers through his dark locks, holding him tight and repeatedly reminding him that he was alright, and that she would stay. A choked sob left his throat, followed by another and another, until he could finally breathe again.

"I might not be fine," Five admit at last, his voice hoarse again.

They hadn't moved apart. He didn't mind.

"I might have noticed," she laughed lightly, fingers still tracing circles across the back of his head. It felt nice, turning the weighted heaviness inside his chest into something light and hopeful. He sighed, content in that instance. Maybe he'd been missing out all this time, being terrified to get close to anyone real. "You don't have to be fine, you know," she commented. "I don't think any of us are fine. It's not all up to you. You don't have to have it all together for us."

He wasn't sure what to say in response. That was how he had lived most of his life. Self sufficient. Calculated. Focused. The fate of the world depending on him. How else was he supposed to make up for leaving in the first place?

Five's next thoughts were lost in a yawn. Vanya pulled away from him at last, and Five frowned at the loss. She gave him a sweet, tired smile, barely visible in the dimly lit room. He wasn't sure how late it was now, but the lost sleep was started to catch up to them both.

"I think we both need sleep," Vanya noted, getting to her feet suddenly. For the slightest moment, Five feared she was indicating her departure. "Scooch," she demanded with a playful smile, poking a few fingers against his shoulder. He gave her a grumpy frown for the bossiness, but gratefully obliged, shifting his mass to the far side of the bed. She pulled the covers down and tucked herself in next to him. He was suddenly anxious, despite the fact that they had been in the same situation just days ago after he'd had too much to drink. This time he was feeling _way _too sober.

The boy's pulse sped up as she made herself comfortable next to him, their arms and shoulders pressed firmly together after she had settled. He was all too aware of how tiny his bed seemed all of the sudden. It was a welcomed, nerve-wrecking feeling. A contradiction upon itself. The added body heat made sleep seem irresistible, despite the pounding of his heart as Vanya seemed to snuggle in closer, both calming him further and setting his nerves alight.

"I'm sorry I left," Five murmured, his words sloppy from exhaustion. "I couldn't find you there. I found everyone else, and I found out what had happened to Ben. But I couldn't find you," he revealed sadly. Words that had gone unspoken for so long. "I never stopped trying to come home. I'm sorry it took seventeen years."

"I know," she replied solemnly, her voice full of regret at all of the time they had lost. He wasn't the only one that had been alone. His absence had been hard on her, he knew. Vanya took him off his guard again as she suddenly found his hand in the dark, squeezing it reassuringly. "Thanks for finally coming home."

Five laced their fingers together, finding comfort in how perfectly her smaller hand melded into his. "Thanks for believing that I would," he breathed softly, before succumbing to sleep at last.

* * *

**THERE. Floof for everyone. Damaged, broken, raw floof, but floof nonetheless. **

**I believe I'm caught up on all messages and comments. I love to hear from you guys! Thanks for the unwavering support. **

**Hold onto your butts, because we all know that once things get light and fluffy, a wrench gets thrown in eventually. :3**


	8. Symphony No 7 in A Major

**Chapter Eight: Symphony No. 7 in A Major**

* * *

Beams of warm sunlight streamed through the window, the first dust-speckled rays of the day finding their way to Vanya's still, restful face as the minutes passed by. She wished they would go away.

Not for their lack of warmth and comfort, but because that meant it was morning, and she had no desire to get out of bed. The sun never shone through her window in the morning, being on the opposite side of the hall. It was no wonder Five had always been such an early riser, with such beautiful and welcoming morning light streaming in from the East each day.

Five. Her mind became stuck on the thought.

A soft, rhythmic breathing and warm exhales against her neck were clear indicators that she had once again found herself waking up next to the boy she had lost years ago. He had turned towards her in his sleep, their fingers still locked together, resting over Vanya's stomach. Her heartbeat quickened, and she wondered for a moment if the thundering beats inside her chest would wake him.

But no, the boy slept on.

Vanya carefully turned her head, angling herself more towards her favorite member of the household. She took advantage of the rare, still moment - no frantic mathematical theories spilling from his mouth, no vengeful glares at her other siblings. He looked so relaxed. It was something she hadn't seen in a long, long time.

Pushing through a negligible amount of embarrassment at the thought of him waking up to find her ogling, she studied his features in the morning light. His tan skin looked more golden than usual, highlighted by the ever creeping beams of sun. His dark hair was tousled and messy, unlike the precisely styled form he would never admit to fussing over. For all intents and purposes, he was the person she'd been missing for seventeen years.

But he wasn't. Time had stolen that from her.

The Five she knew could be overly confident, harsh and a bit too opinionated, but not bitter and cruel. Impatient, yes, but never quite as selfish, and never at the risk of his family. Five had always been secluded and distant by choice - but he had never been afraid of spending time with their siblings, or of harmless physical contact. He had never acted like a wild animal trapped in a corner. The panic in his eyes was not familiar to her, nor was the dark and calculated malice she had caught glimpses of since his return.

The past Five's eyes used to light up when he had finished a particularly difficult task, be it mathematical or mastering a new distance with his jumps. He had always acted grumpy and more-mature than their brothers, impatient with their childishness, but he was never one to turn down a good prank or sneaking out for a late-night adventure.

She knew he had been through a lot, but it was becoming apparent that he had only grazed the surface of his past - or future - experiences. It was concerning and heartbreaking to see him struggle to fit into the world he had left, and to the family he had struggled every day to get back to. The boy was trying, that she knew, or else he wouldn't have dared ask for her company last night.

Worst of all, perhaps the most painful realization, was how meaningless everything appeared to be for him. Five hadn't smiled - _really smiled _\- since he dropped through the portal in 2019. He threw plenty of cynical, menacing smiles around, to emphasize his annoyance or to put intention behind his words. That wasn't _so _atypical of him, she supposed, but the habit had gotten worse over the years apparently.

Any of the other rare smiles she had witnessed from him in conversation never quite met his eyes, stopping just below the surface. He smiled to please them, to avoid questioning and forward the conversation. Not that Five had worn his heart of his sleeve as child to begin with but…at one point in his life, he had known how to be happy, to enjoy life, and to live in the moment. Now...everything was just a means to the next task on the list to be sure the timeline was fixed. He was tactical and laser-focused on whatever was next to achieve his goal, never stopping to breathe or enjoy even a single minute of his second chance at life.

How _exhausted _he must be, living for everyone but himself.

Vanya heard stirring down the hall, and realized she had been spacing out for quite some time, watching over Five's sleeping form. With a blush of realization, she untangled herself from his arm. A sleepy whimper of protest escaped Five's mouth. He turned onto his back, rubbing his eyes groggily. "Where're you going?" he demanded through a yawn, not fully awake.

"Shh. To my own room," she whispered back, scooting herself out of his bed. The walls weren't exactly paper thin, but anyone walking by would likely be able to hear them talking. She couldn't bear to deal with Klaus and his relentless innuendos for another day. This would only fuel him further.

"Why?" Five murmured after a long pause, eyes still shut in protest of the day, as hers had been not long ago. She was happy to see him acting so lax - unlike the last time they found themselves waking up in the same room, when he had instantly turned cold and pragmatic, rushing off to take care of his own business.

"It's morning. Breakfast. Siblings. _Dad_. Lots of reasons." His blue eyes opened at last, coming to terms with the possibility on consequences in store for them were they to be caught, innocent intentions or not. It hadn't worked out well for Allison and Luther (not that it had stopped their efforts), and they were two of Hargreeves's favorite pupils. Five and Vanya were perhaps lowest on the totem pole, and stood no chance - the rebellious smart-mouth, and the supposedly ordinary outcast, purposefully excluded for most of her childhood.

"I suppose you have a point," he sighed, pushing the blankets down and making to get up and around.

"I take it you slept well?" She hadn't meant it to sound pointed - she genuinely wondered if it was the first decent night's sleep he'd had in some time.

Five visibly flinched, but only for a moment, recovering smoothly as he stood from the bed. He hummed noncommittally, not looking up from straightening out the covers, keeping himself busy and avoiding her gaze. Vanya could have sworn he had turned a very slight shade of red. It was the most human thing he'd done in a while, and she'd be lying if the sight of him struggling to compose himself wasn't entertaining.

Maybe he wasn't _quite_ so lost.

An amused smile graced her lips, and was returned with an irritable scowl from a very ruffled Five. His walls were back up, but she could see through his rough exterior. He didn't _want _to be completely alone. Last night was a rare moment, she knew, where his walls had been down due to the hell he returned to each night when he slept. She'd have to pay attention and do a little bit of pushing to keep those walls down, at least around her. He needed someone to be there for him, whether he liked it or not.

"Do you _want _my help sneaking out of here unnoticed, or do you want to walk your smug-self across the hall alone?" he demanded, arms crossed in an act of indignance. She covered her grin with one hand, and held the other out towards the fuming boy. With a disappointed shake of his head, he grabbed her hand and jumped them across the hall, appearing in her room.

Five made a point to pull his hand away hastily, but Vanya held on to him for a moment longer. His clear blue eyes were wide and uncertain as he found her stare, holding him frozen in place. She didn't know what to say - but she didn't want him to leave thinking she was laughing at his expense, over his moment of vulnerability the night before. So she stopped him, offering him a warm smile as her fingers squeezed his gently, hoping the sentiment was there, even if the words were not.

Shockingly enough, Five stopped pulling away from her...and somewhat reluctantly smiled back. Crooked and dimply and as handsome as she remembered. It was far from being called joyful, with the troubled boy still being so hesitant and reserved, but it was a start.

Vanya's heart was pounding again, a loud drumming inside her ears. A wind that was far from natural swirled around her, sending sheet music flying off her desk nearby. The gap between her and Five seemed entirely too small all of the sudden. She jerked her hand away from him and took a step back - and it was calm again.

"Sorry," Vanya sighed, brows scrunching together in frustration at her lack of control. That never would have happened on her medicine. She almost wished she could continue life on the crutch of medication. Klaus had done it for years, too. Maybe it was worth it to feel numb and disconnected.

"We'll work on it," he assured her, hands moving towards his pockets, only to realize he was still in pajamas and didn't _have _pockets. "Hm. Guess I should change. I'll see you at breakfast."

And he was gone.

Breakfast sounded terrible, with her stomach doing uneasy flips and turns, but she found herself rushing through her morning routine anyways, anxious to be near him again.

But not too near.

He was broken, estranged, and needed _support, _not an emotionally unstable time-bomb making things more complicated than they already were. Five hadn't endured decades of despair just to come back and rekindle...whatever it was that he had left behind when he left her at that table seventeen years ago.

No, she knew better than that. He was here to save the world, and to save his family. The key to doing so just happened to be centered around her newly discovered powers. Vanya would work on mastering them. She would be there for Five while he struggled to acclimate himself to a civilized life, and burry the things of his past.

Anything beyond that was a game of 'what if' that she didn't dare to play, with stakes being so high. With a determined breath, she did her best to calm her unsettled nerves, joining the rest of the group in the hall to meet for their morning meal.

* * *

Five entered the library later that morning slightly after the rest of the group, having taken the time to walk back upstairs to collect his things, and to collect his thoughts. His actions throughout the last twenty four hours were troubling him. He had slipped up.

Showing weakness was something he _knew _not to do.

Hargreeves had taught him.

The apocalypse had taught him.

The Commission had taught him.

So why the _hell_ did being around Vanya make him want to dismiss the years of training ingrained into his brain, entwined into his very existence, without a second thought? He wanted to blame it on the terrors that plagued him at night, and being woken in that frenzied state, grasping onto anything that brought him a sense of comfort. That would be the rational explanation - except he had repeated his actions this morning, fully awake and conscious, letting himself accept her comfort. Even worse, encouraging the girl's desire to bond with him after all this time. _That _definitely wasn't smart.

They had been close before, he hadn't forgotten. Vanya had been his best friend. As kids, he ran to her first with every need, every new theory, every bad day. She listened to it all without much complaint. The older they grew, the more time they had spent together. Even after Vanya's medication was increased and made her distant and quiet..

Their unconventional connection had never been awkward. Sure, they all called each other siblings, and perhaps in any other adoptive family, they would have behaved as such. But with an estranged father who viewed them more as soldiers to be trained, and a robotic mother programmed by the same man, they never stood a chance at knowing what a real family was like. At best, they were students, teammates, and prisoners together - never _real_ brothers and sisters.

Five inexplicably found himself drawn to the musician, as if being next to her numbed the pain, the memories, and the horrible impulses he'd picked up through the years. But to live an entire lifetime apart, just to be thrown together again, both of them pretending it was plausible to pick up where they had left off?

It was unsettling how much he wanted to do just that.

The thought lit a fire in his chest that he believed to have gone out years and years ago, a teenage desire that had died the second he realized his family had died in the apocalypse. Something he had tried to fill with alcohol, his job, and Delores's company, but they had all failed eventually. As much as his heart jumped at the idea of fueling that fire again, and entertaining the emotions and ever-present hormones this body had thrust upon him, it was something he knew he'd have to smother out.

Neither he or Vanya needed distractions at such a critical time. Better to nip it in the bud. Practicality was more important than a romanticized dream he had left behind at the ripe age of thirteen.

He turned the corner, approaching the library doorway with his ever-present confidence, fully intent on finding a better and more secluded spot than yesterday. Surely his brothers wouldn't pester him two days in a row, not after he lashed out yesterday. Today he would sit alone, and rewrite variations on his predictability chart in peace.

Five's plans were tossed out the window as he walked through the arched doorway, catching a smile sent his way from Vanya herself. He faltered, nearly tripping over his own feet. Fuck, had she seen that? He hesitated on what to do next.

Vanya was sitting at a circle table in the center of the room, large enough for the entire team. Lo and behold, the entire team was indeed sitting together, gathered up like one big cooperative group of misfits. A chair next to Vanya say empty, beckoning him to join the light conversation and idle chit chat he despised so very much.

He swallowed, standing indecisively for a moment. This _is _what they came back in time to do, he justified internally. To work on Vanya's powers and integrate her into the team. If he steered the conversation productivity, it would still be of use to him, towards fixing the timeline in their favor. As long as it was productive and conclusive, there was no harm in taking the seat that _happened _to be next to Vanya.

Collecting himself quickly, he made his way to the table, dropping his books loudly and taking the empty seat between Vanya and Klaus. All eyes were on him instantly. "Am I interrupting something?" he sarcastically asked the group as a whole, avoiding looking at the brunette to his left. On second thought, he should probably avoid the brunette to his right as well. Giving Klaus too much unwarranted attention never lead to productivity.

"No of course not," Ben replied from the other side of Klaus, leaning forward on his elbows as to see Five better. "Just...are you still mad or...?"

"Irrelevant," Five replied, opening a notebook on the limited space in front of him. It was full of symbols and numerals, appearing squished together in a chaotic mess to anyone else nearby enough to read the tiny, precise print. "But since we're all here, let's touch base on plans for Vanya's trainings tonight," he continued methodically, allowing himself a quick glance toward the woman in question.

"We already _have _a plan," Luther pointed out.

"Hardly," Five snorted, not looking up from his work. "We have 'plans' to meet up, stand around for an hour, and stare at various inanimate objects in hopes that Vanya is capable of _doing _something without playing her violin." He was still scribbling, working out the next integer in the long sequence of numbers on his paper.

"And this," Klaus reached over and tapped the top of the page, causing Five to pause in his aggressive writing, "is going to _help _us with that?"

"No, not at all." Five grit his teeth, annoyed at losing his train of thought. Multitasking was impossible with his brothers around. He really should have known better. "_That _was me trying to figure out the most likely courses of actions we may see from The Commission. When, where, who they'll send." He snapped the journal shut, the sound unintentionally resonating through the quiet room. Vanya jumped, startled, and an entire row of books flew off the nearest shelf, raining over Allison, Luther, and Diego, who were unlucky enough to be seated on that side of the table.

"Damnit, I'm sorry," Vanya stuttered out, scrambling from her chair to remove books from the table and floor surrounding the trio.

"Shit, Vanya, what was that about?" Diego cursed, standing up from his chair, causing several books to pour out of his lap and onto the floor.

"We're _fine_, Vanya," Allison insisted, glaring daggers at Diego. She immediately stood to help Vanya clean the unexpected mess.

"That," Five smiled confidently, leaning forward with intent, "is what we should be working on. Controlling your reactions to noise, to the sound waves around you. Which brings me to yesterday. How did you stop Diego's knife?" Vanya cringed a little at his enthusiasm, not unnoticed by Five himself. Maybe he should tone it down a little. This was all new to her. Not to mention the last person that showed interest in her abilities was possessive and manipulative. He leaned back, trying not to look quite as demanding, and perhaps a smidge more patient.

Vanya finished reshelving the stack of books she held, sat down, and closed her eyes, thinking back to yesterday. As much as she _hated _Harold Jenkins, he had at least given her a small insight to her identifying her abilities. Her eyes snapped open with realization after a few silent moments. "It was the knives. Cutting through the air, thudding into the wall and...well _you_," she recalled, directed at Five. She felt sick remembering the sound of the blade embedding into flesh. "It was repetitive enough to tune into I guess, and I didn't want you guys to get hurt."

"Alright, alright," Klaus said, slamming his hands down on the table and standing slightly. "I got this. So tonight at training, just bring Five, Diego, some knives, and-"

"No!"

"Klaus!"

"Seriously, _that's_ your suggestion?"

Klaus huffed at the chorus of protests, and sank back into his seat dejectedly. "Jesus Christ, kill a guy for trying."

Five breathed in through his nose, willing himself to find another ounce of patience. "I was thinking we just use a metronome. I assume you still have one?" Vanya nodded in confirmation. "Good. Just bring that. It's a repetitive noise for you to focus on, so it should work for what we need, without the use of your violin _or knives_." He directed the last bit at Klaus, then turned back to the group. "Also - I very much doubt having four people standing around making additional noise will help matters any, so Luther, Allison, Ben - decide which one of you will be joining me tonight."

Luther seemed about to protest, of course, but Allison cut him off with a firm hand on his toned arm. "I will," she insisted with an air of authority that only a mother could have. Five had predicted as much - Allison was desperate to repair the relationship she had missed out on with Vanya. Probably better that Luther didn't go, anyways, seeing how unsupportive he had been thus far in their plans with Vanya. Ben would have been Five's first choice - quiet, smart, and definitely the most willing to listen to instructions without questioning him. But Allison would do just fine.

"We're supposed to go as a _group_," Luther inevitably spoke up, displeased with the decision. "If Allison goes then I go. It's not safe-" he faltered as Allison whipped her head towards him threateningly. "Well it's not!" he defended himself, hands raised.

"Neither were _you _when _you _were first learning to control your freakish muscles," Diego cut in, always eager to disagree with Number One.

"In the extremely unlikely scenario that something _were _to go wrong," Five interrupted loudly, shooting stern glances at the squabbling siblings, "None of you could get Allison to safety faster than _me_. And none of you could get Vanya's emotions to settle faster than _Allison_, with or without having to use a rumor. It's the best case scenario, so deal with it. Plans change."

Vanya looked at him thankfully, Allison grinned victoriously, while Luther hunched back in his seat, defeated by the majority. "Great," Five confirmed, turning his thoughts back to the notebook before him. There was still time to finish this stubborn equation if he found a quiet spot. He started to gather his things.

"Hey now wait a second there, gramps," Diego spoke up again, earning a pointed frown from Five. He supposed it was better than being called 'young man' from the hundreth stranger in a week. "Yes?" Five asked through clenched teeth, sitting back down with forced restraint.

"You said you were figuring out if your old employers would be visiting us again - care to share with the class?" Diego asked, raising his non-scared eyebrow in question.

Five's face turned cold and serious. "It's not a matter of _if_ they'll find us, it's matter of_ when_. They _will _send a correctional unit to deal with this. Which is why, like I've been telling you all relentlessly, Vanya's training is the most important goal right now. They still believe that she's the key to the apocalypse."

Klaus spoke again, angling himself towards Five enough that their knees bumped. Five inched away from the contact. "Wait, so what are they going to do? Aren't they supposed to preserve the time-space-mumbo-jumbo? If they want the earth destroyed, why not just blow a hole in the moon themselves?" Klaus made a motion to mimic an explosion, complete with sound effects.

Shaking his head, Five replied, "It's not that simple. They can't directly influence events, just people surrounding those events. They have a set of rules to follow themselves." He paused, tapping his pencil against the table in thought. "It's the butterfly effect. Small changes can produce a tremendously different outcome."

"So what do they have to gain from coming to 2002, exactly?" Allison asked, pushing a few stray curls behind her ear. "If they can't make major changes, that means they can't touch us, right? We're _supposed _to be here, that hasn't changed."

"You're right," Five replied calmly. "They're not going to risk taking out any of _you_. Not unless you were to directly threaten Vanya's existence." The boy made a pointed glance at Luther, who dropped his eyes, suddenly finding the table very interesting.

"Wait, you said any of _them_," Vanya caught on. "What about _you_?"

Five met her eyes point blank, keeping his face neutral. "I'm the anomaly here, the variable that shouldn't exist," he explained simply. "If they find us, I'll be the target. And like I explained before, there's a definite grudge from destroying their briefcases, the very expensive tools they use to time travel." And then as an afterthought, "I also managed to toss a grenade at one of the higher ups - she survived, but she was understandably pissed last time we talked."

"You don't say," Ben spoke for them all, mouths agape across their little circle. His siblings were once again reminded of Five's violent history.

"It bought us some time," Five shrugged, not particularly bothered by the thought. He had hoped for _more_ damage from the grenade, if anything. That would have helped ease his mind from some of their current predicaments. Taking out the Handler would have delayed the Commission further, since they'd have to put time into finding and training a replacement.

"So we need to come up with a plan if they show up for you," Luther went into leader mode. Five nearly slapped his own face in exasperation. Oh Number One, always rushing into things he didn't understand. Old habits die hard. "When," Five corrected again. "And there's no point. I'll just jump to another time and throw them off the trail again."

His siblings looked horrified at the suggestion. Vanya's expression was the worst. "You're going to leave again?" The hurt was clear in her voice.

"Temporarily, and only if I have to. I can always come back," he assured her, keeping his poker face on. He knew good and well that it was no guarantee. The looks on everyone's face told him his lie was less than convincing. Time traveling had proven to be difficult for Five more than once now, and they all witnessed his failure first hand. History may very well repeat itself if he wasn't careful. All the more reason to finish nitpicking through his notes for mistakes, and mastering the multitude of equations littering the walls of his room.

A silence washed over the group, and Five took the opportunity to dismiss himself from the impromptu meeting. He muttered a quick excuse and blinked away to an isolated desk in a back corner of the library. The last thing he wanted to do was waste time discussing alternative possibilities. He wouldn't risk his siblings lives again if the Commission showed up in 2002. He would jump forward, hopefully more calculated than before, and rejoin them at a later time.

He could deal with the Commission. What he couldn't deal with was having to bury his family for a second time if they failed again.

* * *

A familiar silence settled over the house that afternoon, threatening to swallow Vanya whole in it's vastness. She found herself alone, wandering through the dark, dated halls.

Most of group had finished their morning studies individually, no one being in a particularly talkative mood after Five informed them of the threats that were still lurking just behind them.

Lunch was uneventful, as expected. Vanya had tried to make any kind of contact with Five during the silent meal, but his defenses were definitely up again. He seemed distracted. The boy practically skipped through a portal the second Hargreeves had dismissed them to prepare for afternoon training.

The _official _members of the Umbrella Academy gathered downstairs to train as a group.

"Practice your violin on your own today, Number Seven," her father had instructed as he left the table. Apparently she wasn't needed today, even to simply keep time for her siblings efforts, or jot down notes for Hargreeves. Thus, unsurprisingly, she found herself alone in the silent mansion.

It was nothing new, so she wasn't sure why it was so bothersome this time around. Perhaps being included so much the last several days was causing the blatant separation to hurt that much worse. Vanya retreated to her room as slowly as she could manage to drag her feet. She paused outside of Five's door, her heart sinking painfully at the thought of him potentially disappearing from their lives again. They had only had him back for a couple of weeks - how could life be so unfair as to rip him away again so soon? Hadn't they gone through enough at this point?

The brunette forced herself to turn away from the closed door and enter her own room. It was small - she didn't have much to call her own as a child. Nor did she _want _much, materialistically speaking. The only possession she cared for back in those days was her father's violin. It had once given her purpose, a will to go on, to prove herself as something more than ordinary.

It had done its job, she supposed, in a twisted way.

With trembling hands, she reached under her bed and pulled the familiar black case from its nearly permanent new home. Two latches clicked open together with clumsy fingers, and the lid was lifted. Beautifully stained wood reflected the afternoon light, the surface polished smooth from use. The young woman ran a calloused finger along the lowest string, and the deep metallic humming vibrated quietly in the room. It felt like lightning coursing through her body, in a thrilling, but absolutely terrifying way. With a fearful gasp at the power lurking just beneath her skin, Vanya jerked her hand back suddenly, cutting off the flow of energy and snapping the case closed.

As much as she truly wanted to explore her powers, to master them, to be of _any use _to the rest of the team...she just couldn't bring herself to touch the instrument she once loved. It had already caused too much pain in the timeline the escaped. If giving up her passion kept her family safe, then so be it.

She filled the rest of her afternoon with music studies, music history, and doodling on the back of sheet music. At some point, she took a break to dig through her desk for the metronome she used to keep her tempo steady when she first started learning the violin - which incidentally wasn't that long ago from this timeline.

Before long, the hall filled with the clatter of six pairs of feet trudging upstairs. Finally. The young musician flung her door open and stood under the frame, waiting patiently. Her siblings looked worse for wear as they came into sight. It would appear that Reginald, though his memories of the outburst were rumored away, subconsciously still had it out for their misbehavior yesterday. Vanya couldn't help but feel guilty.

Allison walked by with a half hearted smile before continuing to her room, Luther trailing behind her and diverting to his own room. Diego offered a nod in her direction before ducking into his room. Ben looked shaken. Vanya frowned at the thought of him having to use his powers after all of these years. Ben had always hated the violent powers he ended up with. Klaus seemed as normal as Klaus could - perhaps he had a better handle on his abilities this time around. The walking ouija board drug Ben into one of their rooms, no doubt checking in on the state of his best friend.

And lastly, Five. He looked terrible, again. It was something she was regrettably getting used to. His limp seemed worse, even with his sad attempt to mask it. His skin carried a sheen of sweat, with a tint of green lingering in his face, making him appear overall unwell. Vanya struggled to hide a cringe.

"It would appear that Dad is still pissed," he grinned, that dark, sarcastic smile that worked so well to cover any emotion hiding beneath the surface. He leaned against the wall near his door, shaking a little from overexerted muscles. Apparently he was in a more talkative mood now.

"I don't see any blood today," she noted positively, quickly looking him up and down in search for any obvious injuries. "I take it there were no knives at practice this time?"

"No knives." He pushed himself back up from his brief rest. "Just lots and lots of spatial jumping. Over and over and over, until I was too nauseous to do anything else," he replied grimly. Vanya shot him a sympathetic smile in return. Five's gaze was behind her though, leaning his head slightly to get a better view into her room. She followed his eyes, finding the abandoned violin tucked away safely in its case. With the distraction of her siblings returning from training, she had left it sitting at the end of her bed.

"I didn't play it," Vanya implored, noting the curious twinkle in the time traveller's eyes as he glanced back to her.

"Not yet, but you will." He smiled knowingly, confidently, making her believe his words despite her own determination to abandon her cursed talent. It irritated her that he was so sure of himself. She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "You don't know that," she huffed.

"I know everything," Five quipped back with a radiant smirk, making Vanya's heart skip a beat. An untimely glance down to his pocket watch disrupted the brief moment. "For example, we have approximately four minutes and sixteen seconds before Grace calls us to dinner. So I'm going to clean up." He turned back to his door with more self-confidence than Vanya could muster in a week, ending the exchange.

Vanya took a deep breath and collected herself. With a few hasty strides back into her room, the violin was shoved as far back as it could go beneath the bed, a satisfying thud emanating as it hit the wall. Had Five always been this exasperating, while somehow simultaneously coming across as charming?

* * *

The evening went as well as could be expected, from a silent dinner to a mechanical evening routine, as was anticipated of the seven teens. The individuals bid their goodnights to each other in hushed tones, with Grace overseeing them until they were each tucked away nicely into their rooms. Her heels clicked down the hallway as she left them to go to her room of paintings to recharge for the night. The house turned silent.

Vanya slid her feet into her slippers after several minutes, making her way to the door. The knob turned quietly enough, but the door opened with its usual creak. She held her breath for longer than necessary, not moving until she was sure no one had heard. Everything was so loud in this old house, from squeaking doors to the neverending tiled floors that echoed each step throughout the vaulted ceilings.

The girl nearly screamed when a hand wrapped around her right wrist, yanking her out of the doorway with a start. Another hand covered her mouth, muffling her pitiful squeal as she was pulled forward in the dark. Her free hand pushed blindly at the body before her, desperate to rip herself free, already on edge from the last two week's turn of events. A wild swing of her elbow managed to connect with the offender's body, jabbing into what felt like a ribcage. A low grunt confirmed that it had, but she hadn't managed to shake whoever it was away from their hold on her wrist.

"Jesus, Vanya. It's just me," an all too familiar voice hissed. Five used his free hand to grab her left wrist, swinging her around and pulling her forward to face his poorly illuminated form. Vanya stopped trying to rip herself away as she came to terms with the situation. Her breath was jagged from the adrenaline surge, leaving her winded.

"What the _hell_, Five?" she snapped at him, keeping her voice low. She ripped her arms free from his grasp. "Was that necessary? You scared the shit out of me."

Five starred, seemingly at a loss for words. "Sorry," he noted, sounding a bit bewildered. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Instincts, I guess. Manners aren't exactly part of the Commission's curriculum."

Vanya couldn't help but feel the bite of her words, given the situation. Of course he was ill-mannered. He had been an _assassin _the last few years, according to her siblings. It must be a mindless task for him to sneak up on unsuspecting targets. The thought gave her chills.

As if he sought to prove her thoughts wrong, Five reached back out, much more delicately. He grabbed her wrists gently and inspected them closely, presumably for any bruising or otherwise noticeable injuries. He rubbed a thumb over the smooth skin on her wrist, sending a warm wave of affection through her chest. Her skin tingled where his fingers brushed across her palms, lighting up her nerves like a fire. It took everything she had to not lean into him as he loomed over her in the dark, to close the gap between them. She could feel her heart pounding frantically, her powers very much on the edge of turning the rhythm into pulsing waves.

"I'm fine," she shrugged, nearly choking through the words. Thank God it was dark - her cheeks felt warm and flushed. Surely the boy could feel her rapid pulse, with his fingers resting against the veins in her wrists. "Just...knock next time? Or do anything but grab me violently in a dark hallway?"

Five hummed in acknowledgement, but chose not to comment on the subject any further. Down the hall, Allison's door creaked open. Vanya ripped her hands out of Five's grip again at the sound. The young beauty that was The Rumor tiptoed down the hall, smiling at her siblings as she approached, unaware of the tension in the air.

"You guys ready?" she questioned in hushed tones. Vanya nodded, not trusting her voice at the moment. She ducked back into her room to fetch the metronome, and lead the way to the old rickety elevator that would take them downstairs.

Practicing sounded like a much welcomed distraction right now.

* * *

Unfortunately for Vanya, her emotions were a bit strung out, and very much tied to her abilities. The trio spent an hour downstairs in the dingy vault with a disappointingly miniscule amount of success. _Accessing _Vanya's powers had proven to be much easier with the assistance of the steady ticking from the metronome. _Control _was seemingly the issue.

Five's presence made it worse.

She would be doing just fine, managing to target a single glass bottle as it shook and wobbled against the hard ground. But as soon as Five would make a suggestion or praise her success, her heart would flutter with a mind of its own, and the bottles would explode into shards and dust. Not exactly what she was going for.

Still, it was improvement, both sibling had encouraged. After a long, drawling hour of trying to distance herself away from the boy long enough to concentrate, they called it a night.

Quiet footsteps lead them back upstairs, where Allison stopped at Vanya's door to whisper a few more words of encouragement. "You seem anxious," the girl had worried. "I know it must be difficult to be off your medication, but you're doing wonderful, Vanya." Allison squeezed her shoulder in an act of affection. Vanya smiled, and couldn't help but think what a wonderful mother her sister must have been, despite her flaws. Claire was lucky. Or would be lucky, if they played their cards right.

Five hadn't joined them in the doorway, and disappeared into his room without so much as a goodnight. Vanya's chest filled with distress, and she forced herself to wrap up the conversation with Allison before her overly observant sister noticed her change in tune. She idly watched Allison walk to her own room, irked with herself for letting her mood be ruined by something so trivial.

The brunette took a step back into the safety of her own room and pushed the door softly to a close. A rustle of papers from the bed had her spinning around in astonishment. She shook her head, perplexed, but smiling ear to ear. Sitting cross legged on the end of her bed was Five, shuffling through the sheet music she had left sitting around, scrutinizing its characters as if they had personally offended him.

"Mathematics are simpler to read," he complained, flipping to the next page.

Vanya settled down next to him, scooting her knees up and resting her chin on them. She wasn't going to question why he was here, or if he was staying. As tough as the boy acted, he was sensitive about being called out on his faults, even if it was something as out of his control as feverish nightmares. "Well, music is a kind of math. Everything note requires numeric values, and flows in a rhythm together. It all adds up to harmonize together."

"Hmmm," Five mumbled in confirmation, giving the thought due consideration before reaching forward to set the pile of papers in a neat pile on the floor. "I suppose so." He seemed satisfied with her explanation. It almost felt like old times, when they would share interests and thoughts late into the night. She knew that wasn't why he was here though.

"Unless you're going to keep pretending you have a sudden interest in music, I'm exhausted," she smiled, pulling the sheets back and patting the spot next to her expectantly. Five bristled slightly at the suggestion, his eyes darting to the door for a moment in debate. "Five," she pressed knowingly, seeing the spark in his eye that screamed of independence and self sufficiency.

"I'm not a child," he spat bitterly, his head turning the opposite way. She held back a giggle at how much he was _acting _like a child in that moment, knowing that teasing wasn't the way to pursued him.

"Of course not," she argued. "But I think it's in everyone's best interest if you actually get some sleep at night. Even _you _need to recharge." She stuck to logical reasons, knowing Five wouldn't be able to argue. He huffed a little, staying put, but didn't bite back with an excuse to leave. Vanya reached over to her bedside table and flicked the light off. Saying more would not convince him to stay, so she left it at that and curled up against her pillow.

A minute went by before she heard Five sigh in defeat. She could imagine him rolling his eyes in the dark while doing so. The bed shifted with his weight next to her. The familiar warmth in her chest bubbled up as he made himself comfortable, their elbows brushing together in closeness.

"Goodnight," he grumbled, his voice heavy with sleep already.

"Goodnight, Five," Vanya murmured pleasantly, a wry grin painted on her lips.

* * *

**Yikes, sorry for the long break between updates! This chapter turned into less plot and more fluff and character depth than I wanted. Hopefully you still enjoyed these two bumbling, emotionally-stunted adults trying to co-exist. :) **

**No wrenches thrown in _yet. _**

**I love your feedback! It (and coffee) fuels me. **


	9. Istanbul

**Here we go! Getting into the main plot (at chapter 9 - jeez I'm terrible). **

**Please remember that some of my plot is borrowed FROM THE COMIC BOOKS. So if you don't want MILD spoilers from Dallas, then you may want to reconsider heading forward with this fic. And if you're a comic fan...please note that I'm just plucking out ideas from the comics, I won't be sticking rigidly to the plot.**

* * *

**Chapter Nine: Istanbul**

Saturday morning appeared like a breath of fresh air, with promises of an absent father figure, and a break from the never ending expectations that came with him.

Somehow, they had made it through November and into December of 2002. Three weeks had passed since their return. For most of a month, the group of should-be-adults had managed to navigate their way through their repressed childhood, without raising too much suspicion.

It was a miracle, really, all things considered.

Five was more than impressed with the team's efforts to keep their time travelling escapades under wraps from Reginald, Grace, and Pogo. He had fully expected them to fuck it up in a matter of days, if he were being honest with himself. But overall, things had been surprisingly...ordinary. Ordinary for a family of superhero teenagers, anyways.

That's not to say there hadn't been a few slip ups along the way.

There was the issue with Vanya during Five's training, of course, but Allison could thankfully correct any major issues. Now that the family was cooperating and had a gameplan, she seemed much more inclined to use her powers towards their efforts. Especially if that meant helping Vanya in any way.

And then there was the incident with offending Pogo. Diego had been hurling insults at Luther after a competitive sparring session - something along the lines of "ape man" had been thrown around in a heated moment, despite the fact that Luther's disfigurement had been reversed. That had taken some apologies and some ridiculous make believe excuse from the two idiots. It was Pogo, though, and he cared deeply for them. It was dropped without much questioning, but a very stern lecture.

One of the biggest challenges Five had anticipated was Klaus. His sudden improved attitude with his powers that certainly hadn't gone unnoticed by their father. How does one explain going from a sobbing teenage mess being locked in a crypt and forced to communicate with the ghosts haunting his every waking moment, to being able to tune out the voices and function somewhat normally? Well, normal for Klaus. Time would tell what Reginald would conclude, but for now, he seemed pleased with Klaus's willingness to participate as a team member.

The downside of their father's attention being _off _Klaus, was that he had plenty of time to focus on Five that first week. Reginald had spent all of his spare time and energy into pushing Five to his limits. Each afternoon of that first week, Five would exhaust himself with Hargreeves's insistent training, jumping as commanded throughout the house until he either passed out from overexertion, or made himself too sick to move. He was being made into an example - that much he was sure of. This was a warning to the other children. Rebel, and your life could get _much _more difficult.

None of that mattered. Five knew better than to dwell on petty issues with their father and his shitty parenting, or lack thereof. It was a temporary issue. They wouldn't be kids forever - a few more years would allow them to move on with their lives again, but this time together. The way it always should have been.

No, Hargreeves was a minor threat in his mind. There were bigger problems lurking around in the shadows, just waiting to show their ugly faces. It was killing him, waiting for signs that they had been followed by the Temps Commission. There was no chance in hell that the organization had simply given up the chase. They were far too spiteful and vindictive to let Five's actions go without so much as a fight. Not to mention that he was a special case, in their eyes. The company had invested quite a lot into his extraction from the apocalyptic world they plucked him out of.

The only positive light he could shed on the Commission's lack on intervention was how much time they were able to spend honing Vanya's abilities. It had been a slow progress, but she was _finally _starting to have enough control to bend sound waves to her liking. It was limited to a short duration, and only so long as it was a controlled environment, but he sensed that they would be pushing new limits soon.

Vanya was flourishing with the support of her peers, after all this time. Allison was doing a decent job at keeping Luther in line. Diego, Klaus, and Ben had been in favor of supporting her from the get go. And Five himself...well, that was perhaps a bit more complicated than he was willing to admit.

The two had grown closer, refamiliarizing themselves after years apart, finally out from under the thumb of an impending apocalypse and assassins trying to kill their family. They spent weekday mornings in the library, doing their work in peace, just how he liked it. No pressure to talk, no goofy shenanigans or pranks, and no pitiful glances thrown his way during the moments he would find himself somewhere else.

After each intense training session that first week, Vanya would find a way to sneak him up a snack to replenish his depleted energy and settle his stomach. Always a perfectly made peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich - she really had the proportions _just _right.

Vanya's training at night had proven to be a bit more difficult, with Five being so worn down from his own excessive training. He found himself struggling to not doze against the wall in the downstairs vault more than once in the evenings. Thankfully the remaining siblings had more than made up for it - another pleasant surprise. Whether they had finally figured out how to work together for the fate of the world, or being thirteen and living under the same house again snapped them back into the team their father had tried to raise them to be, he couldn't say. All Five knew was that he was grateful for the help, for once.

After training each night, Five would drag himself upstairs, attempting yet again to fall asleep in his own bed, only to toss and turn and stare wide awake at his ceiling, dreading the impending nightmares that threatened him the moment his eyes would close. The horrid visions themselves changed from time to time. Sometimes it was the image of his siblings. Dead, rotting, burning, crumpled and broken. Other times it was the Handler, her ever present arrogant smile, so self assured and all knowing, always hovering too close for comfort. And still other times, it was Vanya.

Not _his _Vanya. No. The one who lost control, who was manipulated, and wanted nothing but destruction. The one he and the others had secluded and abandoned, with her striking white eyes and pale skin. The one who didn't know what it meant to be loved and cared for. The Vanya that grew up in a world without _him_. The one he was determined to figure out a way to save, despite the Handler's words hanging over his head.

_'What's meant to be, is meant to be.'_

Five refused to accept that. It couldn't be so simple, with the millions of possible variations across the time continuum. There had to be a way to save them all. To save her. There was a solution, if he could just figure it out and do the math. The fear that there wasn't a way to fix it all was overwhelming.

He told himself over and over that it was just the stress that drove him back to Vanya's room each night. She didn't pressure him to talk about what kept him awake each night, like his siblings surely would. She didn't treat him like a bomb ready to explode, waiting for him to finally go insane, and he paid her the same respects.

She was just there, and somehow that was enough to keep the demons in his head at bay.

It had nothing to do with the way his heart beat faster, or how he found himself resisting the urge to smile over nothing in the middle of their conversations. Nor did it have anything to do with the warm, wine-drunk feeling in his belly when they lay next to each other and talked about music and math and pretending their hands brushed together by accident. It was just...easy.

Interactions with his other siblings felt like staged, going-through-the-motions bullshit. They cared, and he cared, but it was so very forced. They couldn't understand how alone he had been. Spending time with Vanya felt almost natural, despite how long it had been since they were children. Five wasn't sure if he would ever truly be at peace, with all of the messed up shit he'd been through, but spending time with Vanya gave some semblance of tranquility in his life.

It had been over a month since he found himself in this _infantile_ body, and reunited with his family at long last. Perhaps it was time to listen to everyone's urges to relax and slow down. Perhaps it was time to let his wounds heal over - as much as they could, anyways.

"You okay?" Chocolate brown eyes glanced his way, warm with concern and affection. Five sat hunched over the informal kitchen table, one hand wrapped tightly around a warm ceramic mug, the other hand supporting the weight of his head against his cheek as he propped himself up lazily with his elbow. He realized with a start that he had been tapping his finger against the mug for God knows how long, lost in thought as he stared down the swirls of foam in the contraband coffee he was enjoying. Coffee was a rarity these days, as Reginald hated keeping caffeine in the house, and was very much alive in 2003.

"Of course I am," he drawled unconvincingly, voice dripping with sarcasm. Five stared blankly across the table with half lidded eyes, not bothering to move or straighten his posture. Settling back into this underaged existence was beyond difficult. He needed to be _doing something_. He couldn't convince himself to take a breather and fall into a sense of security after so many years of struggling and hardships. He needed to be ready - but for what, he wasn't sure.

Vanya's dainty fingers were suddenly wrapped around his wrist, knowing better than to accept his snarkiness at face value. Her thumb delicately grazed over the faded Umbrella tattoo, half hidden by his blazer sleeve. The ceramic mug grasped within his fingers nearly cracked at the increased pressure he exerted, while Five's breath hitched in his throat at the unexpected contact.

Unexpected, but not unwelcome.

Regardless of how much he _wanted _to accept her bold comfort without hesitation, his mind screamed at him to react defensively, muscles automatically tensing, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. The boy forced himself to let out a collected breath and resisted the urge to pull his arm away from her grasp.

Practice makes perfect. And he had plenty of practice with restraint these last few weeks.

Sparring with his siblings had become the second most dreaded part of his day, a close runner up to the prospect of sleeping alone with his night terrors. Combat, he was great at - damn near perfect, in fact. But practice fights took a lot out of him. He simply wasn't accustomed to practicing restraint during combat.

Five had walked away as the sole victor of every fight and mission he'd taken part of the last several years, thanks to the...adjustments the Temps Commission had made when he joined the organization. His skills were unmatched, the best of the best.

Every move he made around an opponent was extraordinarily calculated, and having to factor in what was least likely to _kill _his siblings was difficult, to say the least. It was easy to get lost in the moment and forget that this was all for practice. Every suppressed fiber of his being screamed at him to do whatever it took to be the last man standing, to walk away victorious. Making errors on purpose was challenging, and not only due to his inflated ego.

Five much preferred the days Reginald requested spatial jumps, or running endlessly up and down the flights of stairs, or even having knives thrown his way. Anything was better than worrying over a miscalculation that could end in the death of his family, at his very own hands.

Maybe that's why being around the practiced violinist opposite of him was a better solution - there was no combat with Vanya, as she wasn't part of the team, technically.

Although being around her came with its own imaginary set of rules and restraint, if he was being honest...

As much as he enjoyed being around Vanya - and _dear God_ did he enjoy being around Vanya - he still felt inclined to keep his distance for everyone's sake, even if the girl infatuated him to the point of delirium. She needed to focus on her ever-growing abilities, and he needed to focus on the Commission's most likely next move. He wasn't even supposed to be _in _this timeline. He and Vanya developing...whatever feelings they were inching towards would definitely send out red flags to anyone looking for space-time disturbances.

Of course, his normally solid mindset was paper thin once it was evening again, and he was left with the choice of spending a restless night alone, or to find himself crawling into her bed like a coward. The blanket of night covered any insecurities and fears, and allowed him to dismiss the childish need to be near her with little care for any repercussions. Shadows hid his flushed cheeks, and heavy blankets muted his pounding heart. The comfort of another person next to him and the promise of sleep dismissed his many concerns about how he shouldn't be allowing anyone to get too close to him in this timeline.

For whatever reason, the girl had a way of seeing past his abrasive, obstinate exterior. With no more than a gentle touch or warm smile, she could convince him to listen to words of empathy and emotion rather than those of reason and logic.

Maybe because she _knew _what it was like to be alone with nothing but fears of disappointment, and couldn't bear the thought of him pushing everyone away? Whatever her reasoning, Vanya's growing confidence and persuasive antics seemed to work on Five, pulling him to her like a moth to the flame.

At this very moment, in fact, it was entirely too difficult to avoid Vanya's intense scrutiny delivered through earthy irises, hidden slightly behind dark fringed bangs. Her lips pursed disapprovingly at his previous sarcasm, and Five found himself transfixed on them for a moment, feeling a regrettably familiar heat rise to the tips of his ears.

"Stop worrying so much," she demanded playfully. His blue eyes were still locked on her lips are they took shape into a timid smile. He wondered briefly if they were as soft as they looked. Vanya's fingers squeezed reassuringly, sending a flurry of light shocks racing across his skin and up his arm.

_Fucking teenage hormones. _

Five forced his eyes to look anywhere else in the room, finally settling on a window. The thin windows in the kitchen were at street level. Shoes occasionally shuffled by on the sidewalk as people hurried on their way in the cold drizzling rain. It was a cloudy winter day, and the gloomy weather only dampened his mood further.

"_Someone_ has to worry about a team of assassins hunting down our entire family," he replied dryly. "May as well be me."

Vanya opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off with the loud, boisterous laughs of the remainder of the academy kids echoing from a few rooms over. Five's body tensed up again, and he found himself pulling ever so slightly away from Vanya's touch. She shot him another concerned look, but ultimately sighed and pulled her hand away from him just as the remaining five siblings wandered through the gaping doorway. Five's skin felt regrettably cool with the broken connection.

Allison sat next to Vanya, a curious glance thrown Five's way. He returned it cooly, not giving her the satisfaction of making him squirm under pressure from the obvious moment they had all interrupted. _Of course _Allison had noticed the exchange. She was too fucking observant for her own good.

Five lifted his now lukewarm coffee to his lips, sipping it with an air of superiority that no actual thirteen year old boy could possibly hope to match. Allison turned to Vanya instead, moving on from her nonverbal accusations at her brother for the time being. "Sleep alright last night, sis?" Vanya's cheeks were pink as her eyes hovered on Five's for the smallest moment, but the girl managed to reply steadily with a generic response.

Oh God, were they becoming Allison and Luther at this point? Did the others whisper and speculate whether or not they were conversing behind closed doors? Five had been so discreet - a wonderful perk with his powers.

They couldn't possibly know.

Allison seemed to accept Vanya's offhand response, but smiled as if she knew more than she was letting on. Damn her. She was the same nosey brat she'd always been, but at least motherhood and her divorce with Patrick had seemingly taught her a sense of respect for another person's right to privacy. The Allison he used to know would have just rumored the truth out of them right then and there.

"What, no java for the rest of us, mi hermano?" Klaus grumbled, lifting the french press and swirling the remaining coffee grounds and scant amount of liquid.

"That shit's terrible for your body, you know?" Diego shared with them all. "Especially considering our current age." The dark skinned teen eyed Five's lifted cup with disdain while Klaus dug around in the cabinet, trying to find Five's hidden stash.

"Top shelf, behind the peanut butter," the shorter boy offered helpfully, taking another sip. He'd steal some of Klaus's fresh brew momentarily, but he couldn't resist the urge to irritate Diego as he stared, seemingly offended at Five's beverage.

"Caffeine is one of the most common addictions. It's practically a drug," Diego blurted out, still seemingly under the impression that he could convince them to ditch the steamy beverage this morning. How naive.

"Definitely a gateway drug," Ben chimed sarcastically, not looking up from his book. "May as well call and reserve a couple of beds at the rehab center for them, Diego. I have the number somewhere."

"Aww little Five, let's go! The dynamic duo!" Klaus danced to the sink with a stupid grin, hugging the can of coffee grounds to his chest tightly. "Our first adventure in 2002! We'll have to come up with another cover story. I'll miss being your father, I'll admit." He filled the tea pot with water, shutting off the tap after a moment. "Although you were a pretentious little shit, so I'm not sure I did the best job raising you on my own. Single parenting is a bitch."

Five glanced down to the half empty cup of cold coffee, debating whether or not it was worth sitting through this increasingly certifiable conversation for a fresh cup. Before he could decide, Diego quipped back defensively, prompting Luther to get in on the argument. Allison and Vanya laughed at the boys enthusiastic debate on the effects of caffeine and benefits of herbal tea, while Ben smirked from behind his book.

Maybe it wasn't so bad. Five allowed the tiniest smirk as he watched his siblings interact, unhindered by an abusive father or assassins out to kill them. Vanya caught his expression, flashing him a gorgeous toothy smile, her eyes lighting up behind dark lashes.

Was _this_ what would save the world? Simple mornings, filled with laughter and bickering and beautiful brown eyes? This is what they came back to do. To belong together.

"Master Five," a somber voice interrupted. It was Pogo. Seven pairs of eyes turned towards the much younger version of the chimp, who stood earnestly in the doorway. "I believe we need to have a discussion."

Five's brows knit together in question. He could feel all of their eyes on him now. "In regards to what?" Surely Pogo wasn't this serious about some contraband coffee ground in the house. Reginald wasn't even here today. Pogo was usually one to turn a blind eye towards the children on free weekends. Reginald had been considerably less strict with him the last few days of training. Unless they had started using security cameras again, and knew about his nights spent out of his own room...

The chimp shuffled his feet, very apparently uncomfortable. "Well, Master Five, the blood test results," he trailed off. "I'm afraid I have to insist we discuss this alone."

_Fuck._

Five's eyes were wide. He could feel himself losing control over his expression by the second, a fluttery, panicky feeling filling his chest. Fucking goddammit. The blood samples Pogo had taken, when they first arrived. How the _hell _had he overlooked the damn blood samples? His mind was racing, while an entire room of people looked at him expectantly.

_'Answer. You need to answer,'_ he chided himself mentally.

"Right. I'll meet you in the lab," Five affirmed, forcing himself to appear composed. He held up the half emptied cup as an excuse to delay, and Pogo accepted it with a nod, turning to exit the room.

"What was all that about?" Luther prodded. Everyone was leaned in, deadly silent, coffee-making long forgotten. The momentary joy had left the room with Pogo.

"You're not dying are you? Because I just got rid of ghost-Ben," Klaus joked, although his grave eyes betrayed his concern. Five almost laughed. Dying? Oh no, quite the opposite of dying. He ignored his brother's questioning and blinked to the other side of the table.

"I need to borrow you," he stated simply, putting a hand on Allison's shoulder and disappearing with her, leaving a room full of confused teens.

The two reappeared in a back corner of the library, far away from the kitchen, and one of the last places the others would look. They would surely check their rooms first. He'd have to come up with an excuse for the others later.

"Five," Allison stumbled, jerking away from him. "What the hell? You could have warned me." She shuddered off the nauseating feeling of being drug along through his spatial jump.

"No time," he snapped, finding himself pacing back and forth in the narrow aisle. "I need you to rumor Pogo for me." He paused in careful consideration. "And maybe Dad. I haven't determined that yet."

She crossed her arms across her thin frame, giving him an extremely impatient glare. "You're going to have to do a little better than that," she demanded. "Spill."

Five nearly growled, clenching his teeth. "I can't."

"Then I can't help you," she maintained. "I won't rumor someone's free will away without knowing why." Honorable, he mused, but annoying in this particular situation. He bit his cheek a little too hard in his frustration, finding himself tasting copper. This time he did growl, low and aggravated.

"Pogo took some blood samples, when we first arrived," he spat, returned to his pacing, not wanting to meet her eyes. "It is _imperative _that he forgets the results before Dad comes home, unless we want them both to know that I _did in fact _time travel, and throw the entire timeline off."

Allison's brows lowered, trying to understand. "Wait, time travelling affected our _blood_? How? Do we all need to be concerned about that, or-"

"No," Five interrupted, holding a hand up to cut her off, unintentionally harsh. "It wasn't the time travel, all of you are perfectly normal." She was relieved with that, but waited for more information, still unsure. Of course she was confused. He swallowed. Allison wasn't going to help him without a reasonable explanation. Time to bite the bullet. He sighed painfully. "You have to _swear _to keep this between us for now."

She was taken aback, clearly not used to being his sole confidence. "Sure, Five. I want to help you with...whatever this is."

"_I'm serious,_ Allison," he hissed. "Not a word. Not to Luther. Not to Vanya." Her name stuck in his throat. Allison nodded, her face suddenly very concerned. Five ran a nervous hand through his neat hair, not worrying about messing it up for once.

"My blood is not... _pure_, exactly," he started delicately, struggling to find the words he had never spoken aloud. "Or my DNA, rather. The Commission, they-" he faltered, unsure of how to put things in the simplest terms without being horrifyingly specific. "-they performed...questionable experiments, as part of my agreement to work with them."

"You-you let them _experiment _on you?" she asked, appalled. Questions were already flashing behind her dark eyes, defensive for him about something that happened years ago. She looked him up and down, presumably trying to find some form of evidence that he was different. "What did they do to you?"

"Yes, I had to," he confirmed. "It was the only way to get back to you all, to save everyone. I was stuck in the apocalypse for decades at the point they showed up." He could taste the bitterness of the words on his tongue. There were many days he wondered if he should have refused the Handler, and lived out his days alone with Delores, drinking himself to death, surrounded by failed equations and rubble.

At least he would have died himself, instead of the monster they had turned him into.

"They had their scientists alter my genetics, _improving me_," he continued somberly. No sense in sugar coating something so horrible. "I suppose with my powers, I was the perfect candidate. I was fast, discrete, and terribly desperate. They had been waiting for someone special, someone that would benefit their needs. I had nothing to lose at that point." Or so he had thought. He laughed humorlessly, sounding mad for a brief moment. "How do you think I'm capable of the things I do? Even with my spatial jumps and Dad's training - a thirteen year old body shouldn't be able to kill with the precision that I do. I'm fail proof. The perfect killing instrument. Surely you've all noticed. Surely Luther has filled you in on what my job was before I showed up before the apocalypse." Of course Luther had. If Vanya knew, then Allison knew. He leaned against the wall, the weight of his words feeling heavy. Allison starred with wide, fearful eyes, soaking in his confession.

"The DNA they fused with my own. It...it wasn't just to make me stronger or faster. It was taken from history's most notorious killers. I'm the perfect killer in every sense of the word, because _I am every killer_. It made me efficient yes, but...I didn't realize how _much _it would change my mind. How detached to my own life and memories I would become."

Sometimes his thoughts were not his own. He turned away, not wanting to see the disappointed expression that was likely strung across his sister's face. Five wasn't used to feeling much, but there was no other word but guilt for the suppressed emotion struggling to bubble up in his gut. Not guilt for killing - but for throwing away his own mind, and accepting the twisted instincts of a killer as a trade off to returning to his family.

A hand on his shoulder jerked him back to reality, forcing him to meet his sister's face. Pity. And concern. As expected. But not disappointment.

"That's why you've been so distant," she stated in understandment at last, not even phrasing it as a question. "I mean obviously the years alone but - everything else, it's because of them, the Commission?" His silence confirmed her thoughts. "Pogo might be able to help, if we just-"

"He can't." Five interjected. "The Commission's technology is more advanced than even I can comprehend. There's nothing man-made that could compare. Their resources are nearly unlimited." Allison's face fell, defeated. Her arms crossed over her chest, one hand propped up to her mouth where she chewed on a nail, struggling to think of some solution.

There wasn't one. "It's fine, Allison," he assured her emotionlessly. "I've lived with it this long. I can control it. We all have our struggles. This is mine."

"We can't stop trying," she insisted, false hope clearly expressed. He nodded for her sake, agreeing to the ridiculous thought. Short of walking into the surgical ward at Commission headquarters, there wasn't a feasible chance of ridding himself off the altercations. Even if there was - how messed up would his mind be, after so much death and destruction caused by his own two hands?

"You'll rumor Pogo then?" he affirmed, itching to get the deed done.

"Of course, Five," she smiled, lovingly brushing his hair back down from his earlier frustration. He allowed the motion with a sigh and roll of his eyes. "One thing though," she requested suddenly.

"Yes?" he tapped his foot impatiently.

"I know it goes without saying," she started, "But you and Vanya-"

"There is no me and Vanya." His heart thumped in argument, recognizing the lie.

"You need to be careful, and make a decision to commit or back off," Allison continued, ignoring his denial. "She has her own emotional issues to deal with, and hers are just as deadly as your own. Playing the hot and cold card won't help." Five frowned, neither confirming or denying her assumptions. The two of them did make quite a pair for destruction, he mused. Her with powers influenced by emotions, and him with his struggle to have any emotions or sense of morality. Irony at its finest. "And if you decide to _continue _spending time with her, then you need to _tell her _about all of this." Her hands gestured to him in a wide motion. "She deserves that much."

The boy crossed his arms indignantly, loathing the lecture. "Don't you think I know better than to allow _anything _to happen to her?"

She frowned, eyebrows raised. "I think _part _of you does. There was a part of you that wanted to kill her back when the Apocalypse was happening," she reminded harshly. He recoiled at the memory.

"Yes, well so did half of the family. There are half a dozen or so parts of me that are impatient, practical killers. Obviously there's no room to entertain something as frivolous as fairy tale endings, so you don't have to worry about it," Five insisted with a frown, holding out his hand roughly. "We don't have time for this. Pogo is waiting. You've got a lie to fabricate, and I've got evidence to destroy. Priorities, please?" He smiled tightly, anything but kind.

Allison gave in with a sigh, reaching for his hand. "I just care about you. _Both _of you. We'll figure this out, Five. You're not a killer." Yes he was. He didn't respond to her unknowingly delusional ideas. There was a much bigger task at hand.

The last conversation he'd had with the Handler played in a loop in his head, reminding him of all that he'd sacrificed to be here.

_"I saved your life. You belong here with us," the woman argued, gun pointed at his chest, furious at his betrayal. Furious at his failures and disappointments that reflected poorly on her._

_"I don't belong anywhere, thanks to you. You made me a killer." He could feel the angry tears threatening to spill as he threw the accusation at her. She _ruined _any delusional hope of returning to his old life._

_"You were always a killer," the Handler smiled, red lips curling wickedly. "I just pointed you in a direction."_

He wouldn't allow his cover to be blown. This timeline was their best hope, their best chance. Even if he couldn't be saved, his family could. He wasn't going to waste the opportunity.

He and Allison disappeared in a flash of blue.

* * *

**Ahh poor Five, never a good day.**

**I did decide to use Allison, just like the comics! :) She's useful with her rumors, and can make Five's problems (temporarily) disappear. I SO HOPE the show delves into this. Its a much better explanation as to why Five hates the commission so much, and why he's so distant and heartless at times. #needsahug**

**Let me know what you all think! Hopefully I haven't lost some of you netflix fans. 3**

**-Storm**


	10. Hazy Shade of Winter

** Chapter 10: Hazy Shade of Winter**

* * *

Allison gave Five a begrudging sidelong glance as the pair of them watched Pogo succumb to the rumor, his eyes glazing over with a milky white sheen that would have gone unnoticed to most anyone else. Five stood cross armed, dark brows knitted together, but otherwise unfazed. Stone faced. Rumoring Pogo was the simplest solution, the most direct route, and needed to be done. It was as simple as that.

A quick glance at his sister told him she was feeling much less certain about the situation - she was fidgety as her fingers picked insistently at a loose string on the hem of her shirt. Pogo had already died in the timeline they escaped, and she was no doubt feeling guilty for putting their most loving biological caregiver through any more trials and tribulation.

It was regrettable that Five had to include his sister in this mess at all, but she would get over it. Allison had done far worse things with her rumors than this. If anything, this was _helping _Pogo, not hurting him. Preventing him from privileged, if not dangerous, information. The Chimp walked out of the lab in a daze, off to do his part, and tell the rest of the family that it had been a false alarm - that whatever he thought was wrong with Five's test results was an error, and he was perfectly fine.

Not that they would buy that, with Five having rashly warped Allison out of the room. It was a no brainer that he had needed her to tell a rumor for him. Why else would he have chosen Allison of all people? They didn't exactly spend a ton of free time together. No, they wouldn't buy Pogo's lie, but it would at least give him a story to fall back on that wasn't the truth.

The bigger issue was whether or not Allison would move past her newfound knowledge of Five's time at the Temporal Commission. And if not, then what she would do with the information he'd been forced to share. _That _is what had Five on edge. It had never been his intention to bring this part of his life to light.

Five hadn't considered the fact that his past could sneak back up on him so suddenly. He had come to terms with his faults long ago, but never in a million years did he expect to share the information with his family. And here he had been spending the last several weeks worrying about temporal agents hunting them down, how to avoid pissing off their father for the second go around, and pining over Vanya.

He scoffed at his own thoughts betraying him. Vanya. As if there was a chance in hell that whatever God was out there would let him even begin to tease the idea of something between the two of them. Or that _Allison _would allow there to be something, at that, now that she knew just how much of a threat her _littlest _long lost brother could be.

"They won't believe him," Allison voiced the thoughts that had been running through Five's mind moments ago. "And I won't lie for you forever. They're our _family _, Five. They love you." He visibly winced at her words. "You're going to have to tell them, and they're going to have to accept you for who you are. Even if you're not the same person who left us." Her perfectly groomed brows were arched his way with a sideways glance, waiting for whatever excuse he could muster as to why they had to lie to his siblings.

His lips thinned into a frown as he shook his head in disbelief. "Sure. Sure they will," he laughed, not a hint of humor evident. "Luther especially, who is already convinced I've been doing nothing but _murdering gardeners _for the last few years of my life. And Diego, who took it upon himself to leave home as a self proclaimed vigilante, buy an extremely questionable wardrobe-choice for a grown ass man, and _hunt down _men who have committed lesser crimes than I have." Five found himself pacing again at this point. "And I'm sure Klaus and Ben are thrilled with the amount of _death _that surrounds me, as if they haven't spent the last decade dealing with enough of that."

Allison watched him rant, staying quiet and still, waiting for him to stop his stressed gait. He did eventually, stopping to scowl before her after his less-than-kind synopsis of their siblings. "And Vanya?" she inquired. "She doesn't deserve to know? After all she's done for you?"

"I don't think wasting five years worth of Dad's money on the electric bill and a steady supply of peanut butter counts for much, Allison," the boy snapped coldly. There it was - the bitter, cold side of him, so quick to dismiss things that he held to heart, things that kept him sane and made life worth enduring. The smallest part of him was hit with a wave of regret at his own words, but he shoved it aside without hesitation, a sneer on his face. He turned sharply towards the door.

"We both know it's more than that," Allison continued, stepping in front of him, blocking his path. "It was always more than that, even before you disappeared."

"You saw what you wanted to see," Five accused. He brushed past Allison, intent on escaping far, far away from this conversation, and warped to the other side of the door.

"Just admit that you care about her." Allison flung open the lab door and chased him into the hall.

"Obviously," he called back without stopping. Allison jogged to catch up to his quick stride. "I care about _all of you, _or did you forget the part where I spent three quarters of my life trying to get back and _save _you all?"

Allison didn't miss a beat. "It's different with her. You cared about her when the rest of us couldn't - when the rest of us _wouldn't _. You were always at her defense, with us, and with Dad. We aren't blind, and we aren't quite as dimwitted as you seem to think." She reached a hand to his shoulder to stop him, forcing him to turn around and face her if he was going to deny these truths. "Five, would you just-"

His hand was wrapped around her thin wrist faster than she could finish her thought, fingers squeezing too hard. "_ Don't touch me _," he hissed. She winced and tried to pull away, as a look of pain flashed across her face. For just a moment, he held her there, glowering over her despite their equal heights - and then the menace in his icy eyes was gone just as fast as it had appeared. He wrenched his hand away from her with a sudden realization of his actions, watching in a daze as she stumbled backwards from his release.

Five jumped behind her with a pop, grabbing her shoulders gently before she could trip backwards against the checkered tiles. The moment Allison was steady and on her feet, he stepped back again, putting intentional distance between them. His eyes glanced down at her most likely sprained wrist, cradled close to her chest by her uninjured hand.

Shit.

Miraculously, when he met her dark eyes, there was only concern. He had expected fear, or hate, or anger. But no, she was simply worried about _him _for some godforsaken reason. It was irritating. "I'm fine," she assured, clearly noticing his growing panic.

"Fuck," Five mumbled, running a hand through his dark locks again. "This," he gestured to the space between the two of them, referencing to the almost frightening situation they were in, "Is exactly why, and I repeat, _there is no me and Vanya _. There is no me and _anyone _. I'm better off by myself." His fists were balled at his sides, fingernails cutting into his palms. Getting close to him had proven to be unsafe for all parties - look what happened to Delores, for crying out loud. She got hurt over and over, throughout multiple timelines, and was used as leverage against him. She made him weak. Five wouldn't allow Vanya - living, breathing, beautiful Vanya - to be his weakness. "Whatever you thought there was, you're wrong."

"Well you might want to let _her _know that," Allison retorted, not-so-gently. She paused, raising her free hand out to him in a much more delicate, supportive manner, but stopping short at the scowl shot her way. "Listen, we all have baggage, and things that tear us away from what we want." Five shot a sidelong glance her way, shoulder still tense. "You have a bit of extra crazy going on, I'll admit, but Vanya _blew up the moon _a few weeks ago. She's not as delicate as any of us thought." Allison shrugged. "Just talk to her, Five. Get on the same page, with whatever this _is _or _isn't _. She at least deserves to know what the hell is going on."

The tension had left his shoulders a bit. His mind toyed with the idea, running through possibilities, then promptly chiding himself for believing that they could ever be realities. Five had been so very willing to drop everything moments before, but Allison's words had latched onto a small, hopeful feeling in his chest.

_Maybe._

Maybe Vanya was strong enough to deal with him.

_But she was too unstable, too unpredictable._

Maybe he _did _deserve something more, despite his faults.

_No, definitely not._

Maybe he _could _control this, or even find a way to fix it.

_Doubtful._

Maybe Vanya didn't care about his past. She had a past of violence too, as Allison had oh so thoughtfully pointed out, however short lived Vanya's episode might have been.

_But she didn't _choose _to be a murderer._

"You're wrong," the boy blurted out without thinking. "Even if we are on the same page, someone is bound to get hurt." He had more or less confirmed Allison's suspicions. Shit. Too late now. He swallowed, struggling to keep his voice steady. "What happens then?"

Allison gave a conniving smile that rivaled Five's own malicious grins. She almost looked threatening, despite being in the body of a petite thirteen year old. "If you hurt her, then I'll kick your ass. Considering Vanya doesn't first." She continued past him, nudging his shoulder playfully on her way by. "Just talk to her," she called back without stopping.

Five didn't shrink back this time, frozen where he stood, mind still racing and lost in itself. The 'maybe's and 'what if's ran through his head in a loop, giving him a pulsing headache. Allison's newfound confidence in their previously quiet and ordinary sister was unshakeable, so much so that he was questioning his own conclusions about whether Vanya could hold her own if need be, without losing control. Allison seemed to believe so. Especially now, being a mother with no child to dote upon, Allison was acting especially overprotective of all of them. Five was sure that the future movie star would rather see the world burn before she would ever give up on Vanya.

He could relate.

With a frustrated growl, he stepped away in a crackle of blue and appeared within the safety and comfort of his bedroom. Footsteps echoed dully down the hall. He had been hoping to avoid any run ins with the siblings about where he and Allison had been, and why she had returned injured. Luther was bound to blow up once he saw her bruised wrist, and would be demanding answers.

Maybe his room wasn't the best place to be afterall. Much too obvious. He hastily grabbed one of the monogrammed uniform jackets from his wardrobe and warped away again. It was mid-December, but maybe some fresh air would do him some good. A bottle of Reginald's scotch couldn't hurt, either.

…

The morning's rain carried on, drizzling and spitting in the courtyard, making its displeasure well known to anyone unfortunate enough to be caught out in the elements. Five wished he had grabbed more than his blazer, but he had already committed to sit under the gazebo and brood for the time being. He had far too much pride to return inside and fumble through any explanations to his family about his abrupt behavior with Pogo earlier. Better to simply let Allison cover for him for now. If anyone was a professional liar in the family, it was surely Number Three.

His numb fingers fumbled to pop the cap off his recently reobtained flask, now filled with one of his father's nicer selections of single malt whisky. The cold liquid warmed his throat, settling comfortably in his stomach. If not for the low temperatures, it would be quite a peaceful morning. The busy noises and hustle and bustle of the city was somewhat relaxing, making his recent tribulations fade into the background of urban life.

A door latch clicked open nearby, signalling the interruption of his newfound peace. The dark haired boy didn't bother turning around, giving no indication that he had noticed whichever sibling had inevitably found him.

Soft footsteps padded through the ever forming puddles of the cobblestone pavement. He could feel her presence before he could see her, but even that knowledge didn't suppress the tightening in his chest as Vanya ducked under the shelter of the gazebo. "There you are," she sighed through her scarf with a warm smile, relief obvious in her voice. Gloved hands struggled to close the familiar black umbrella in her hands. "You're going to miss lunch. What are you doing out here?" she asked, discarding the umbrella and shoving her hands into her coat pockets. Her cheeks were already red from the cold, making her skin look more pale than usual.

Five shrugged and took another sip from the flask. "Just enjoying the weather, I suppose." He grinned, gesturing grandly to the space around them. Vanya raised an eyebrow and looked him over. He was doing a poor job at masking his backstabbing body's involuntary shivering.

"Come inside," she urged him, pushing up on her toes and rocking back down, antsy. "It's freezing out here." She was cold after mere moments of being exposed, even with her appropriate attire. His own ensemble was doing little to keep his body temperature up, but that's what the booze was for, he argued internally.

"I'm fine," he assured her, leaning against the railing and crossing his arms indignantly. His teeth threatened to chatter through his words, though. The wind picked up a bit, tossing and twisting Vanya's long hair, and sending shivers through both teens.

"Please, Five?" She laid on the pouting hard, opening abusing their carefully crafted trust. Doe eyes, a small frown, all while closing most of the distance between them with an outstretched arm. Five shivered again, but not from the cold this time, forcing himself to stay stone faced despite Vanya's efforts.

"If you're cold then go inside, Vanya," he spat anyways, ignoring the reaction from his pounding heart. Vanya's brows lowered - he could swear she looked _annoyed _with him. As if he had _forced _her come out in this weather. He hadn't asked for her to come suffer with him. That was her own doing. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the beam behind him, not willing to be the victim of anymore of her emotional tricks. He would stand firm in this, for both their sake's.

"Fine," she retorted. It was both a relief and a disappointment. He smirked bitterly at his victory. A conversation avoided, but at the cost of upsetting her.

Or so he thought. Five's bright eyes snapped open as Vanya leaned in close, reaching over him to wrap her scarf around his now very tense shoulders. Her hair tickled his cheek, not unpleasantly, as she fussed over the placement of the soft fabric. When she was satisfied with her work, she sat next to him on the cold bench, pressing her side against his in a hopeless attempt to stay warm in the winter air. He suddenly felt very warm, and somehow doubted it had much to do with the dozen or so swigs of whisky.

"If you don't want to talk, that's fine," she continued. "But you don't have to get frostbite to prove a point. You could always be moody and secretive _indoors, _you know?"

"Well where's the excitement in that?" he bantered back, letting a rare smile slip through his facade. Vanya nudged him with a disapproving shake of her head, but seemed only to snuggle in closer as another gust swept by. He had half a mind to scoot further down the bench, but the warmth was nice, inviting, and playing tricks on his mind. They were quiet for a while, neither willing to say what had gone unspoken for so long. The sounds of the city and patter of the rain continued.

Vanya leaned in innocently, resting her head against his shoulder and winding her arm through his. Five instinctively froze a bit, not resisting in letting her link their fingers together, hers gloved, and his numb from the bitter cold. How could something that threatened to cause his heart to jump out of his chest feel simultaneously so very natural?

He couldn't bring himself to look away from their joined fingers - he was in too deep, that he knew. But perhaps Vanya was just as invested in their growing fondness for each other, this odd sense of dependency that had snuck up on him. The more he tried to push her away, the more he craved her attention. Vanya sighed deeply, closing her eyes, relaxed and unsuspecting. It was a glaring reminder of his earlier conversation with Allison.

_Too close. Too trusting. Too comfortable with someone she doesn't even know anymore._

Damn Vanya for her blind faith, her hope that he was somehow on the track to recovery from the past she only knew the half of. There was no recovering from what he had been through. No amount of sleep, or honest conversations, or _time _would ever be enough to erase the things that haunted him.

With a deeply regrettable shrug of his shoulders, he inched away from her. Brown eyes glanced up inquisitively, making Five look away, guilty. He couldn't convincingly lie if she was staring at him like that. "Maybe you should go inside," he stated, voice as cold as the air around them. "I'd rather be alone right now."

She visibly deflated at his words. "Are-are you sure? You could come in, and I'll make some tea or-"

"Vanya, I don't want tea, and I'm not in the mood to talk about things you couldn't possibly understand," he snapped, standing up and ripping her scarf off his body. His words stung. The tears gathering in the corners of her very confused and pained eyes stung worse. He ignored it. "I'm not a child. I don't need your company. Just leave me alone." He thrust the scarf out towards her, and she sat staring at the accessory as if it were a dying animal.

Five's stomach twisted uncomfortably, like it did after he jumped one too many times, but he held his ground. This was a necessary pain for both of them to survive.

"No," she murmured, barely audible, even at the short distance between them.

The wind suddenly picked up with a start, making Five tighten his grip on Vanya's scarf as invisible tendrils tried their best to rip it from his fingers. The gentle misting had instantaneously turned into a downpour, sheets of heavy rain and hail making visibility outside of the tiny wooden structure nearly impossible as he glanced around them, suddenly tense. Vanya's teary eyes flashed into a silvery white as she stood up opposite of him, her fists balled up tightly at her sides. Five hesitantly took a step back, grimacing at both his and Vanya's wild overreactions.

It was for reasons like this that he should never have allowed them to grow close again, emotions be damned. If time had taught him anything, its that there were consequences for anyone he allowed to get too close.

"You weren't here before," she accused with a step towards him, voice full of spite, hair flipping wildly in sync with the unnatural roar of the wind. The distance between them was gone, and she jabbed a finger into his chest. "And I was _alone _for so long. You don't get to bring us back to live in this damn house again and push me away!" Angry tears spilled over, running their course down her face without hesitation. Raw, unfiltered emotions. Things Vanya wasn't used to feeling, that had been rendered numb and powerless for most of her life.

Five swallowed hard, knowing he was doing a poor job at masking his concern for what was happening. "Vanya," he pleaded without explanation, gesturing wildly to the scene unfolding around them. As terrifying as Vanya was in this state, he knew he had to say something to snap her out of it. "You need to stop. Look around."

Vanya blinked twice, and her eyes faded back to their natural brown, wide and with a sudden fearful realization of what was happening. She all but collapsed forward with the sudden drain of energy, stumbling with a choked sob. He caught her without thinking, hands on her waist in an instant, keeping her upright as she struggled to find air between each heart wrenching whimper. The scarf, having been long forgotten, blew away to join the still raging storm.

"I'm sorry," she cried into his chest. Five frowned at the unpleasant feeling that had taken over inside, the feeling that _he _had caused this, not her. He let her cry against him, only mildly aware that he had in fact pulled her even closer against him, arms wrapped fully around her thin frame. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "I didn't mean to. I just-" she faltered, trailing off.

"Lost control?" he filled in, careful to keep any harsh tones at bay. "Believe me, I know the feeling." And he did. She had witnessed his uncontrollable breakdowns, seeing things that weren't there, all the quirks and habits that came from decades of being alone. She squeezed him tighter, and he nearly sighed aloud at her neverending warmth. Even in the midst of her own trauma, she was concerned about comforting _him._

"You're my best friend." She sniffled, pulling her head up a little to rest her chin on his shoulder. He allowed it, unable to hurt her again so soon, despite every instinct telling him this was exactly what he had been trying to avoid. "I can't do this without you again. I just got you back. I know you're still adjusting to all of this, but...I thought things were going alright. With my training, with the guys and Allison," she trailed off. "...and with us."

_Us. _There it was. Confirmation that there was an ' _us' _in her mind, despite his very best efforts to convince himself that there wasn't, and couldn't be. It left him feeling vulnerable and exposed. Nothing good would come from this. "I'm sorry, Vanya. I shouldn't have been so unsympathetic." That was an understatement. "You're doing remarkably well with your training, and the team has come together, despite Dad still being...well, his bastard, living, breathing self."

Vanya didn't say anything for a moment, waiting. Waiting for more. Waiting for him to confirm or deny her words on their jumbled relationship. She would always wait on him, he realized with a start, guilt eating away at his conscious. Seventeen years, she had waited for him, to the point that she had felt foolish for it. He had left her to fend for herself for more than half of her life, just so he could what - prove Dad wrong? Feel better and smarter than his siblings? Prove something to himself?

"I just got you back. I don't want to lose you again, Five," she whispered, warm breath tickling his neck, echoing words that she had shared with him that fateful first night in 2019, right before he ducked out of her apartment without so much as a goodbye. He could feel goosebumps rise across his skin, and failed to suppress a shiver. It was cold out, he reasoned. Of course he was shivering. "I don't want to be alone again."

"You're not alone," he assured her, recomposing himself, being all too careful with choosing his words. "You know _the team _cares about you. It may not have been apparent before, but things are different this time. You know that."

She pulled away quickly, not missing the way he danced around the topic, dark eyes darting up to hold his unreadable gaze. She was so different lately, off of her pills. Challenging. Persistent. There was a fiery spark, no longer smothered, burning freely and threatening to ignite everything he was trying to suppress and ignore. "That's not what I mean," she urged, frustrated. "I don't _care _about the Umbrella Academy, or being a part of the team, or silly tattoos and numbers. I care about _you _, you idiot."

"I care about you too, obviously," the boy snipped without missing a beat, reaching a hand out towards her in a show of sentiment. "But-"

"But what, Five?" she screamed, and the wind screamed with her. "But not enough?" Her scowl as she pushed his away was enough to chill his blood. She seemed to have regained her composure, letting herself be propelled forward into the argument. "This has never been enough for you, has it? This life. You won't slow down and let yourself_enjoy _things. You're always going to want more, to do more, to be one step ahead of everyone. Just like when we were kids, when you left us behind without thinking of the consequences, without worrying about anyone but yourself." Her words hurt. How had this conversation turned on him so quickly? He stood facing her with blank eyes, unable to defend himself for a moment. She was suddenly turning away from him, defeated by her own thoughts. Quiet. "You're always going to want more than this. More than me. This is never going to be enough for you."

Had his leaving really done this much damage?

Of course it had.

Vanya had changed. She had been broken but reborn, like a forest that had to be burned down and destroyed to start anew. She had grown, blossemed, and prospered into a remarkable and radiant woman, despite the challenges she had faced in recent months. She had overcome her fears and was hopeful and bright for a new future.

But Five had changed too. Unwillingly forced into a degenerate lifestyle, broken and glued back together all wrong, missing vital pieces that prevented him from feeling whole. If the time alone in the apocalypse hadn't done it, then the Commission surely finished the job of ripping his last shred of humanity out. He had failed himself, his family, the world. But even worse, he had failed Vanya. He was still failing her.

It was ironic, that him leaving all those years ago was what may have caused the chain reaction that led to the end of the world. Only to work for decades trying to stop it. Only to find out the girl he left behind, his closest friend, his favorite person... was the cause. And now here he was, fate presenting him with the opportunity to hit the reset button and start again, despite so many changes between the two of them. So much lost time.

It was laughable, really, to entertain the idea that fate was throwing them another curveball. Dangling their desires just out of reach, watching them struggle to find a foothold, to stay afloat.

He'd be damned if he let fate have all the credit. He had worked his ass off to get here, risked it all to save _her _from fate and it's twisted jokes. And here they were, Five carefully trying to control each and every turn, trying to protect Vanya from the abomination he had become, and the sick organization that made him this way. They would find him eventually.

The storm continued, a clap of thunder jolting him out of his thoughts, making him realize that despite how much he tried, there was no sense of control here. He was scrambling and fighting to hold onto something that was already out of reach. He would never be able to control the timeline.

Growing close to Vanya meant there was a very real risk from his unpredictable modifications. He could hurt her. Or worse. But pushing her away had proven to be just as damaging, sending her into an emotional turmoil, leaving her alone to repeat history all over again.

Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but he had an irresistible urge to indulge himself, to let go, to open up, and to stop pretending that he had everything under control.

They were doomed either way, it seemed.

He was going to fail her eventually.

May as well enjoy the time he had.

He blinked to the other side of the gazebo, appearing in front of Vanya and grabbing her shoulders roughly, tempted to shake some sense into her. "Not enough?" Five repeated, eyes narrowing, bewildered at the thought. He leaned over her, nearly nose to nose, probably veering on the side of threatening to any casual onlooker. She wore a confused expression, eyes wide and frozen by his harsh actions, clearly not expecting quite a response. His blue eyes were full of sincerity, despite his unorthodox way of expressing himself. "Vanya, _you are everything _."

For a long, fearful few seconds, Five was sure she hadn't heard him. Their breaths came out in whispy clouds, visible in the chilly air. His nerves felt on fire though, waiting for any sign of reaction, searching her face almost frantically for a response or a sign of rejection. What felt like an eternity later, she offered a forgiving smile, reaching a gloved hand up to cup his cheek, a clear sign that he hadn't said something wrong. Tension hung heavily around them, the air feeling charged and dangerous like the swirling storm around them. Her gaze flickered down to his lips for the slightest moment, and it was all the invitation he needed.

His lips were on hers in an instant, with more force than necessary, impatient and frustrated after waiting so long, trying and failing to push away dangerous feelings for the girl before him. Vanya inhaled sharply through her nose, a squeaky gasp lost in her throat, but returned his affections after the brief shock. She leaned into the kiss, dark eyelashes fluttering closed, the chaotic noise around them melting away into the background. Five found one hand tangled in the dark hair at the nape of her neck, the other slipping around her waist to find the small of her back, pulling her against him earnestly.

It was rushed, unexpected, uncoordinated, and imperfectly perfect. And it ended all too soon, with Vanya regrettably prying herself away. Five found himself breathless and suppressing a growl of frustration and the sudden lack of contact, something he hadn't realized he had been missing all this time.

Their breath came out in scattered puffs, heads dizzy and very much in the need of oxygen. He kept his eyes closed, not willing to open them on the off chance that this was just another figment of his imagination. Although the chances were slim, seeing as most of his episodes were full of gore and death, not soft lips and the flowery smell of her hair against his nose. His head bent forward, resting against hers, foreheads touching.

"Five," she whispered finally, reaching around to grab his hands in her own. He opened his eyes at last, finding himself at a loss of words, feeling suddenly awkward and out of place from the unplanned events. This wasn't like him. She made him do things completely out of character, years of training and careful precision tossed out the window.

"Hmm?" he hummed, poker face returned. Was he supposed to say something now? He had never kissed anyone before - being alone in the apocalypse didn't exactly present many opportunities. Had he done something wrong? Maybe he had interpreted her words wrong, mistaken her feelings.

But no, she was suddenly flashing him a gorgeous smile, eyes darting away to look into the distance. He followed their path, and curiously noted the snow that was falling gently around them. Gone was the wind and rain and thunder. A look of relief washed over Vanya - perhaps she had been worried herself, over what her powers would do in the moment, of letting her emotions show with him? He had considered as much, but didn't think they would ever be in so deep as to find out.

"Well that's interesting," he commented at last, eyebrows raised, arms wrapping around her securely, unwilling to let the moment go over a bit of snow or rain. The sky could be spitting fire for all he cared right now. He was on cloud nine, feeling warm and stupidly love drunk.

A door slammed open from the building surrounding them, causing the two to fumble away from each other in a panic. Five jumped to the other side of the gazebo on instinct, placing himself between Vanya and the intruder, muscles tense and cheeks red from being caught in such a tender moment.

"Guys! Come outside!" Klaus yelled into the house from the doorway, not noticing the two members of his household standing across the courtyard. He hopped on one leg, struggling to pull a boot onto his bare foot, tripping over his scarf and landing hands first into a puddle. "It's snowing! It's a fucking Christmas miracle!"

Five rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, heart hammering in his chest from the unexpected appearance from their most obnoxious brother. "Klaus, Christmas is still two weeks away," he called across the yard venomously. Vanya giggled behind him, walking up to stand elbow to elbow, making his pulse speed up even further. This had to be detrimental to his health, he noted, irritated with his body once again.

Klaus jumped like a spooked cat, noticing them for the first time. He eyed them suspiciously, not missing how close they were standing, or how flushed they must have looked, or the way Vanya was glancing up at Five with a wry smile right now, hand hooked into the crook of his arm. Damn her. Five glared daggers at the brother in question, daring him to say something and risk unleashing Five's constantly pent up rage and remarkable skill set. The Seance simply grinned ear to ear, wide and all-knowing, chuckling to himself.

"Ben, I believe you owe me twenty bucks," he sang loudly, skipping into the house with a giddy enthusiasm. "I _told you _it was only a matter of time."

Well fuck. So much for discrepancies.

Nothing ever went as planned in this family.

* * *

**I rewrote this chapter like four times guys. (Notably, my kid was sick twice in these last few weeks, and I've had quite a lot of family stuff going on). So I'm terribly sorry for the LONG LONG LONG wait.**

**I do hope you enjoyed! I've never (ever) written a kiss scene before, so...there's that. Feeling a little self conscious and uncertain. Which is a big part in why I couldn't get this chapter written. This chapter was suppose to be a part of the last chapter, but I just couldn't bring it all together. Due to that...the action-y story arch will have to wait until chapter 11!**

**Your comments make my day. Hopefully this chapter made yours! 3**

**Storm**


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